My Reason
by KickingRoses
Summary: Howard has to justify his own existence unless he wants to be erased by the mysterious Arbiter. It's not gonna be an easy task, especially with no 'real' Vince around to help him. Rated for swearing and eventual slash.
1. The Letter

**Hello people of ffnet! Rose here again. Don't worry, IWBL isn't on hiatus, I shall get back to working on the next chapter a.s.a.p. This was just a little something I writ tonight. When I say 'little', you'll notice how much smaller it is compared to my usual looong ramblings. I can't be arsed to start another 'epic' when I've got two on the go already so this is just gonna be my 'bit on the side, mini-fic'. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Well, the word processor I used was mine - but that's it!  
**

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He was gone.

He didn't know where. He didn't have a clue if he was alive, dead, healthy, sick, happy, scared. He just knew he was gone.

He was actually gone. The flat was free of his remarkable presence and it quickly began to mourn. You could tell this by the way every room seemed to refuse to give any warmth or feel of cosiness to anyone who entered it. Even Naboo's wind chimes refused to sing now that their muse had deserted them.

Howard sat back on his bed, head thudding back against the wall. In the clutches of his fist, which was bruised from the hours spent of being slammed against the poor bedroom door, was a crumpled piece of paper. He bit down on his lip. He'd read the words on the scrap enough times by now to feel each letter coursing into his fingers and through his veins to his heart. Each one like the miniature stab of a poisoned dagger.

Sighing heavily and having to bring both his hands up to massage his weary, weather beaten - or should that be insomnia beaten - mush, the paper finally fluttered freely from his hands to land softly on the mattress. Its creased and crunched up folds spread out to reveal the grey crayon written message in a child-like - yet not not childish - scrawl.

_Deer howard,_

_Im sorrie. Im so sorrie._

_I dunt reli no wot Im sorrie for. I no that ive been a bit of a bitch to u lately. And some times I meant 2 b 1. Other times I just fort it was funi. Wen it weren't. Okay, sum of it wos. Like that hole tromboner thing was pretie hilareosse. Hahaha. Cee. There I go agen. I am reli, reli sorrie. _

_Dunt even no wot makes me the way I am. But im not completely stupid, howard. Cee how im using full stops and commas? Look, a question mark! Bollo gave me a few English lessons. Well, 1, but I got bored and started drawing pikchars ov u and me wen we used to hav r own band. Bollo got pissed off - started frowing his own shit at me, the batty creese. But yeh. I do no SUM fings. Fings that you taught me._

_Fings like: everyfing is my fault. Aint it howard? I wish I was as smart as u r. I no ive nevar sed it. Well, not late-lee any way. I didn't fink ur ego needed inflaten anymore. But - u've always been my hero howard. Even wen u hurt me, I culd not stop how I felt 4 u._

_Kay, no where neer as kewl as Jagger or Gary. But uve been like…u no wen ur little and ur mum tells u storeys of princesses being saved by ther handsome nights? Thats who I fought u were wen I met u. My night in tweed armour._

_And, after all these yeers, after all the stooped fings u've done and every horribal fing I've sed - ur still my night. My hero. _

_ANd I'm a horribal person for being so mean to u. U deserve better. Im just…wot u said I was. A shallow, stooped, Simple Ton. If I new how 2 b a good Ton 4 u then I would be 1 howard. But I don't._

_So im going away. Wot u sed last night is rite. Ur always rite. _

_U WILL do better without me stealin ur spotlight - u must have been freezing in my shadow. Sorrie. Sorrie sorrie sorrie sorrie sorrie sorrie._

_Most important fing I hav 2 say be four I go. Coz I can say it now - coz I'l never cee u agen._

_I love you._

_X_

One kiss. Just one.

His runaway companion's voice echoed in his mind tank; _"It was just a kiss…"_

One kiss. It had changed Howard's perspectives of things forever. Every way he looked at his past, his adventures, his life with Vince, had all shifted and been shaken like a snow globe. It was as if his entire existence up until that point had been an intricate yet pointless black and white flicker film. Then it happened. Technicolor as vivid as anything from Dreamworks animation spilled into Howard's life - particularly the sparkling blue of a pair of adoring inhumanly large eyes. Everything had changed.

For a moment. Just a small, precious moment. Before it changed back.

_Why was that, exactly?_

Howard punched the side of his head for the zillionth time, hoping the silence the resentful voice in his cruel, nagging head. It wasn't his fault!

Ok it was his fault.

He'd had no choice! So he'd fallen madly in love with Vince in the space of five seconds of having the Camden prince's tongue in his mouth. Surely that type of hypnosis occurred to every young floozy who 'got lucky' with Vince Noir. Howard couldn't let himself become one of them. He couldn't be just another who Vince used, abused and tossed aside in the space of an hour and twenty minutes.

_Why would Vince do that to you? You're his best friend._

And when had that ever stopped the sparkly tit from hurting him before? From smashing up his jazz records to leaving him to be molested by a transvestite nymphomaniac to laughing in his face at his pathetic failures. Howard stuck by every word he'd said to Vince in their last…_final _battle of bickering. He was better off without Vince. What had the little titbox ever actually done other than hold him back? Make him feel small and worthless?

_How about saving your life?_

…Shut up!

_And maybe he wouldn't have to laugh at you for being so 'worthless' if you actually did something WORTH WHILE?_

It…no. It weren't as if Howard didn't try. For years he'd struggled and worked his fingers to the bone for a chance of fame of stardom. It wasn't his fault everything resulted in failure.

_That's because you try to achieve trivial, meaningless, heartless goals. You refuse to see the real treasure that lays in front of you and grab it with both hands and clutch it to your chest. You're a failure, Howard Moon. Not just in fame, strength and honour. But in life. _

_You have lived without merit. And so you have not lived at all._

Howard bolted upright, seeing for the first time the other figure stood at the end of the room in the space where a blindingly sparkly bed had once been set just yesterday. A long black cloak slithered from the scalp of the stranger's head to float above the ground where a pair of feet failed to be seen. Howard knew the flat had been feeling empty, but never before, not even on a trip to the sub-zero tundra, had he ever felt so cold before.

The being continued to hover, his entire body hidden beneath a thick, heavy, black fabric that Howard couldn't work out was leather or heavy smog.

"Who…who are you?" Howard's voice pitched with terror, making him sound and feel about ten years old.

The figure still failed to move. Yet its voice, though still in Howard's northerly tones, managed to boom out with enough volume to make the bedside lamp tremble in fear.

"I am The Arbiter."

Howard dared to press; "…Arbiter of what?"

He could swear he actually heard the lamp now whimper in fear that Howard had angered the being. Only the smoggy demon appeared to find this amusing. He laughed. Quietly. Deadly.

"The Arbiter of Life. And this, Howard Moon, is your Judgment Day."

And not too far away, in the next room in fact, a sleeping Bollo muttered something about having bad feelings.

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**In my defense - I was drunk when I writ this :P Reviews are good for hangovers I hear though....please?**


	2. Silence in Court

**Ahoy-hoy! I'm off to the Big Chill tomorrow to join in the zombie revolution with Mr. Fielding and a couple of my LJ girls. So while I'm off contributing to the apocalypse I shall leave you all with this update. Hope you like.**

**Disclaimer: Again, not mine!  
**

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"_You're dead to me."_

_Vince looked up as if he'd only just noticed Howard was in the room. Despite having the older man rant and rave at him for a good ten minutes, he'd been too absorbed in painting his own nails silver - 'future whore' look was in again. _

_Now, fashion was the last thing his single brain-cell could afford to focus on. His mouth hung open dumbly, no sound able to fully muster until; "…Wh-what did you say?"_

"_I said - you're dead to me." Howard fumed again, even more irritated that he'd had to repeat himself. At least he now had Vince's attention. _

_The electro boy blinked, dumbstruck. The tiny brush fell from his hand and quickly stained his black, sparkly mattress cover like a silver tear-drop. "You…you're only jokin'. Right?" He forced his usual sunbeam grin, though his widening eyes betrayed his real fear of the situation at last._

"_Everything's a fuckin' joke to you, isn't it? 'Oh, it's only a joke, H'ward, don't be such a baby,'" Howard mimicked his friend's mockney tones with a snarl. He took a step forward, his face hardening once more, making Vince cower slightly. "Well let me tell you something, you little shitbox. Life isn't another of your fucking cartoon shows you like. Some of us actually have FEELINGS. Not all of us are shallow, plastic, simple-tons with ice running through our veins!"_

_Vince frowned, looking positively insulted; "'Ow dare you? I do have feelings! Not like you'd have any fuckin' clue about that-"_

"_Oh I know, Vince." Howard's voice dripped with a condescending drawl. "I know you feel things like sadness, pain, shame and guilt - if anything bad happens to YOU. The rest of us can all go to hell, can't we? No, scratch that. You're fine with helping out anyone else in the world. Even psychopathic foxes who want to rape you! But as for me - you're so called 'best friend' - you really couldn't give a toss. Could you?!"_

"_How can you say that?!" Vince cried, sitting up straight, clutching the mattress for support as he looked up at Howard, voice cracking with hurt. "After everything we've been through! You know I'd do anything for you, you jazzy freak."_

"_Maybe, once upon a time, I'd've believed you there, Vincent." Howard said, somewhat sombrely. "But those times 'we went through' of which you speak just feel too long ago now. And you've changed. You ain't the same man I knew before. That man was my best mate. But you?…I don't even know who you are anymore. I guess…I've been too afraid to accept it. But tonight gave me a revelation. You embarrassed and insulted me for the last time! __No more will I allow you to hold me back from achieving my destiny and hogging all the limelight for yourself!__ I ain't putting up with it anymore….I don't care about YOU anymore. You. Are. Dead to me."_

_Silent rage pulsing through his bloodstream, Howard stood with his fists clenched, waiting for Vince's reaction. He had none. The younger man was just staring off into space, looking as baffled and lost as if Howard had just been swearing loudly to him in Korean. _

_With an exhausted sigh, Howard turned and began to stomp out of the shared bedroom, unable to stand another minute in his roommate's presence. He thought he was home free until he heard Vince's boots hit the floor and the child-like voice ring out his name._

"_Howard!" Vince reached out a desperate hand. "Please…"_

"_DON'T - TOUCH - ME!"_

------

Howard opened his eyes. Then he closed them, trying to open them again. Nothing. This couldn't be right. He couldn't be in a room of nothing. There was no such thing. But that's what there was. All around him; left, right, above and below - nothing. Darkness. He had a frightening sense of vertigo - was he even standing on anything or just floating in Nothing?

At the very least, he was glad to be distracted with this confusion to no longer have the memory of those heartbroken puppy-dog eyes staring up at him. Not for now, anyway.

"The Fool has awoken." He heard his voice…no. That thing that had _stolen _his voice. It muttered tauntingly from somewhere in the Nothing.

What had he said his name was again? Howard couldn't remember. All he knew was that one moment he'd been sat on his bed reading Vince's letter and the next there was some cloaked demon in the room talking nonsense to him. Then a flash - and he was forced to relive the night before last, which had been even more painful then he'd remembered. Now he was here. Wherever 'here' was, if it was anywhere.

Howard looked around, which was more of a difficult task when everything around him had the same shade of darkness. "…Where are you? Where did you bring me? I'm telling you, I'm Howard Moon and I will not stand for any of thi-"

"Silence."

"Ok, sorry." Howard mumbled pathetically. Somewhere, god knows where around him, he thought he heard a foot step forward towards him.

"Many millennia ago, there was a kingdom on a glorious planet a billion light years away from your pitiful rock that you call Earth. The kingdom was ruled by a cruel tyrant of a king who, by the end of his terrible reign, died leaving his people in poverty and chaos. The people welcomed the reign of the king's eldest son to the throne, hoping he would repair the damage his father had left. The new king wasn't a monster like his father. He did not force his land into war or invent new, cruel laws for his people to follow. In the end he did…nothing. He had the power of a mighty army at his command and the gifts granted by the gods to rule the kingdom however he wished - and, yet, he did nothing. He spent each day lounging on his throne, indulging in all the gluttonous luxuries he was freely given, never caring to take responsibility for his people. As long as his own needs were satisfied, he didn't care whether the kingdom fell to ruins or revolted against him.

"Now, the king's high priest was a powerful shaman. His most passionate study was the process of using the magic of the gods to manipulate more than merely space - but time as well. During the new king's pointless reign, the high priest was swamped with prayers from the people - still left, abandoned, in their ruins of a city from the old king's rule. Prayers to save them, even though too much time had gone past and too many had starved for there to be any hope left for the poor people of Aradia. The high priest was desperate to save his kingdom - so he sold his soul to the goddess of time in order to be granted the power he so desperately wanted to acquire. Once the divine deal was complete - the priest used his new powers to manipulate the timeline of the royal family. He erased the new king from ever having been born, meaning that his younger brother - now the only prince of the kingdom - took up the throne instead. His majesty was everything his elder brother failed to be - decisive, ambitious, passionate, even somewhat ruthless. No, he wasn't the perfect ruler - but he WAS a ruler. And he managed to rebuild the kingdom to it's former glory, even with the loss of the live's of many slaves. It still meant that the kingdom could live on - instead of being frozen in oblivion as it would have under the Unworthy King's rule.

"From that day on, the now immortal high priest with the power to bend and shape time, knew that he'd been granted the goddess-given right to summon people throughout the universe and the centuries who wasted their precious lives away - and demand them to justify their own existence. Would their world have in some way moved more productively, more contributed, had they never been born? Is their presence remaining in this universe an insult to the gods? That is what is decided in the Court of Merit which you now stand in, Howard T.J Moon. You are the accused. And I am the Arbiter - the judge of your significance in the cosmos."

Panic now truly taking an iron grip, Howard could merely nod; "Well…thanks for clearing that up. And, uh, I'd love to contribute to this little…experiment thing but, I've gotta be scooting-"

"SILENCE." The Arbiter boomed once more.

Howard tried to run, only to find a force field of electric-blue bars smack him in the face and force him to stumble backwards. It was then that he took in his new surroundings. The Nothing had begun to fade away like recoiling black smoke. He could make out the shapes in the navy-blue and moonlight shaded edges carving themselves into scenery around him.

Eventually he blinked to discover he was standing in a small, dark but vivid ink-painted courtroom. Not a single expected shade of brown or paisley tainted the room, which would have comforted Howard somewhat - anything but the nightmare he appeared to be trapped in now.

The Arbiter was sat rightfully in his podium, overlooking the Court of Merit, his black gloved hands clasped in front of him, his face hidden as ever. Realising this was more than just another wacky adventure, Howard half-fainted backwards, luckily being caught by a helpful chair and made to sit at a small table on the left hand side of the room, having to look up at the over-seeing Arbiter. 'The Judge of his significance'? Howard had never felt more scared or alone in his life.

"Awright!"

A small but bouncing body of lollipop smiles and feathered blonde hair sat down in the chair beside Howard. The maverick turned his head, then having to do a double take to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

"Vince!" He cried out; surprised and ever-grateful - but confused. It definitely was Vince…but not as how he saw him lately. The different hair and slight chub of cheek had belonged to his younger friend when he was…well, younger.

Seeing his confusion, the younger Vince gave an apologetic smile; "Sorry, mate. This is just how I was asked to appear as. I'm given a different order as what to look like for each client. We both are. Hi, by the way, I'm your Defendant."

Knowing that this impostor wasn't really his Vince made Howard grimace when he dared to smile with Vince's perfect, cheerful beam. The Defendant held out a slender hand to shake Howard's but the maverick couldn't bare to respond, too filled with odd repulsion - how dare anyone pretend to be the person he wished was with him more than anything in the world, in spite of what had been said before?!

Howard gulped, trying to ignore any feeling of 'needing Vince'; "Uhm…what do you mean by 'you both'? Who else is-"

His question was answered as another figure swept into the room and sat himself down at the small table on the right of them. Howard looked up and his chest tightened - he couldn't be wrong this time. That raven hair, the Black Tubes 'uniform', the Venetian mask of make-up and pair of ice-cold blue eyes. It had to be!

"Vince! It's me, over here!" Howard called again, not even attempting to hide his thrill again at seeing his friend. He stood up in his seat and 'Vince' looked over. He smirked, then laughed at Howard, before turning back to face the Arbiter.

Howard felt like he'd been slapped with one of his jazz lps. He slowly sat down as his Defendant began to tug on his sleeve.

"Again, sorry." He sounded truly sincere in younger Vince's sweet, innocent voice; "It's just our jobs, y'know? I ain't even sure how it works this way, we can't control it. It varies from person to person."

Howard wasn't sure at all what his Defendant meant or what was even going on. Were either of these people Vince? Was Vince going to save him from yet another mess he'd fallen blindingly into like he had before? Doubt was creeping in heavily in Howard's mind. After the way they'd parted, Howard wouldn't have been surprised if Vince would willingly leave him to his fate. Whatever that was.

-----

"_DON'T - TOUCH - ME!"_

_What happened next occurred in such a whirl of thuds and colour that neither would be able to remember it too clearly. Howard knew that when he felt Vince's fingertips brush at the back of his neck, his usual 'line' was already poised on the tip of his tongue - what he didn't expect was how his body was waiting to react. Yet, in the same second of saying those three words, Howard had managed to whirl around and wack his hand back at Vince as if swatting away an enormous, annoying moth. Not realising his own strength, nor the adreneline his anger gave him, he somehow managed to make Vince spin on his heels and fall swiftly back - his face cracking against his bed-post. He then lay still, his body twisted and crumbled in an awkward angle against the post. _

_Howard gasped, failing to register what was happening until it had happened. He could hear his heart thumping up to his skull, beating louder and louder as each second went by that Vince lay still. Each beat screamed at him to run to his broken friend, pick him up and fix him to make everything better. Howard was about to obey when Vince finally stirred. He shifted in his strange sitting or lying position so that Howard could see his face._

_The sight made Howard want to kill himself. It wasn't even so much the red mark on Vince's razor-sharp, impeccable cheek bone. Nor even the trickle of blood leaking from a cut hidden somewhere. beneath his fringe. It was the hollow look in Vince's eyes. No fear. No anger. No daring front. Just…acceptance. Defeat. As if he'd been waiting for Howard to snap and lash out all along. Maybe he had, Howard scared himself at the thought._

'_He really is hopeless,' thought Howard chillingly. 'How could I have let him turn into THIS?'_

_When Howard turns to leave again, Vince doesn't try to stop him. And, deep in his torn heart, as he walked out the bedroom and then the flat, Howard wishes that Vince had done._

----

The Arbiter stood up; "The Court of Merit is now in session. Howard TJ Moon - rise."

Not wanting to cause any trouble, Howard complied, his willowy legs feeling ever so brittle.

"Howard Moon," The Arbiter announced; "You have been charged with the crime of wasting the life having been given to you by the Powers That Be. Of living without having left any true, recognisable mark on this world and without being of any meaning to another living soul. Of refusing any chance of achieving honour or self-worth when it comes willingly into your path. How do you plead?"

The accusations echoed sharply in Howard's mind. Was that really what he was? A waster? It didn't make sense. HE was the one up at the crack of dawn to get to work to earn his keep. HE was the one who strived and struggled to try and achieve fame and glory. HE _wasn_'t the one who got drunk and flitted around pointlessly with a gang of brainless Camden dolls. No. They clearly had the wrong person. Howard may have lost confidence in himself more than usual lately - but he knew enough to be sure of this.

He inhaled deeply, only to have the squeaky voice that came out his mouth leave him feeling him feeling ten inches tall; "N-not guilty. Your magnificence." He added a polite curtsy - praying that politeness would go a long way for once.

Sadly, all it did was cause his Defendant and (whom he'd worked out was) his Prosecutor, to explode into fits of giggles.

The Arbiter pounded on the pulpit with his fist; "Silence in court!" The two giggling Vince-look-alikes quickly hushed up. "…Very well. You may sit down, Howard Moon. You have chosen to argue your case - which means the trial now begins."

The Prosecutor let out another evil snigger, looking shiftily across to his opposing team. Howard began to wonder if he'd made the right choice. He looked to his apparent one and only friend in this situation, who was currently rummaging through a small, white, paper bag.

"What does he mean? The trial for what?" Howard asked, wearily.

"Ain't you been listening? The trial to see if you're worthy of being alive." The Defendant tutted, not meeting Howard's eyes. "Don't worry, all you've gotta do is justify yourself and he'll let you go. You won't even remember any of this, it'll just be a bad dream. S'fine."

"Okay…" Howard's mind swirled nauseatingly with more questions. One especially; "What happens if I don't justify myself well enough?"

"Then you get erased from history."

…_Fuck._

The Defendant wavered the white paper bag under Howard's dropped jaw; "Saturn zinger?"

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**Reviews are love xx**


	3. Mirror of Fates

**Big Chill weekend was incredible, for those that are interested. Tim Minchin, Russell Howard and Dylan Moran were Win for me. Fielding's stand-up was an epic fail - I love the guy but, sorry, it was rubbish. I hope he's learned from it though. But he did make a gorgeous zombie king and said he liked my zombie out-fit, after blowing me a kiss when I waved to him, the sweetie (he was on a golf cart, I was eating noodles. Yeah, thrilling). Anyway, I'm rambling. Here's fic. And thanks for the reviews so far.  
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**Disclaimer: Not mine. Yeah, what a let down, I know.  
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"Proceedings shall now commence. Rise, Oh Accused One." The Arbiter ordered.

There was a five second long stillness. After which, Howard felt a nudging in his arm by a very pointy elbow. He had to remind himself again that his Defendant wasn't Vince before muttering the words 'don't touch me' as would have been the norm.

"'E means you, you bumbaclark." the Defendant hissed.

"What? But I was just told to stand up and then sit down, now I've gotta stand up again! This is a mockery of traditional court proceedings." Howard dared to whinge, only to be met with raised eye brows from the two polar Vince's in the room. The Arbiter could well have been giving him the same look of farce but it was difficult to tell beneath the cloak.

"You need to sort out your priorities - you're existence is on the line here, pal." Not-Zooniverse Vince nudged him again, elbow feeling somewhat sharper. "Stand up!"

Howard gruffly got to his feet. "Fine. I'm up, happy now?"

"Silence! Anymore speaking out of turn and you'll be held in contempt of court. Don't make things worse for yourself already." The Arbiter warned.

Howard couldn't help chuckling in spite of his terror; "Make things worse?! What else are you threatening to do to me _after_ you've killed me? Get the Student Loans people on my back again, 'cause I think that'll be a bit redundant, you Grim Reaper-wannabe twat."

The Arbiter rose in his high seat. Howard felt a cold shiver flow up his spine as regret at his indignant words surged inside him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his Defendant place his head in his hands and mutter; "You shouldn't have done that…"

Before Howard could question what consequences would follow his words, the Arbiter raised one cloaked arm, revealing a grotesque, decomposed, practically skeletal hand from beneath the hellish fabric. It made a swift flicking motion, the cracking of his bony fingers snapping through the air - and Howard tried to open his mouth to ask what was happening. But he couldn't. He clapped a hand over his mouth. His lips suddenly felt swollen and sore as if he'd had several wasps go at them at once. He reached up his hand to feel tiny bits of rope threaded across his lips, literally sewing them together, iron tight.

Howard screamed through his muted mouth, nothing more than a muffled groan sounding out. Tears began to spring to his eyes as the realisation of how helpless and endangered he was suddenly thumped him in the gut.

The Arbiter sat back down; "You were about to be given the opportunity before the evidence was brought forward to defend your own case. However, you decided to test my patience and waver your right to speak for yourself. From now on, your Defendant shall speak for you and you shall stay silent and obedient. Now - SIT."

Accepting defeat, Howard let himself be sat back down with the gentle hands of his Defendant, who gave him a small sympathetic smile and a pat on the shoulder. His mind floated back to a time so long ago when it had been Vince - just as he looked as the figure sitting beside him did now - doing a similar act of comfort that was worlds more reassuring.

In the back of Howard's head, he suddenly heard the little man's voice; _'Just trust me, alright? I've gotten people with worst cases than you off before."_

Howard gave his Defendant an odd look, noticing he was smiling at him, yet had lips as motionless as his own.

"_Yeah, that's me you can 'ear. Anything you want me to say for you then just think it out loud and only I'll 'ear it. It's probably better this way."_

The stunned maverick gave it a try, focusing hard; _"Can you hear this?"_

The Defendant nodded eagerly, still smiling with the younger Vince's oh-so-confident and cheerful smile. Howard felt his fallen spirits rise a tad. Even if it wasn't really his old Vince; it sure was good to be able to see that sunshine grin again.

"Prosecutor. You shall now present your argument as to why this human's life should be annulled." The Arbiter announced. "Rise."

Howard looked across the spacious divide to watch the Not-Recent Vince rise up, flicking his hair back and smirking up with heavy-lidded eyes almost seductively at the Arbiter. If Howard hadn't known better than he'd be sure that this other figure really was his ex-best friend.

"Cheers, your 'onour." the Prosecutor began with flaming buoyancy. He whirled on the heels of his Chelsea boots to sneer in Howard's direction. "This fellah that sits before you, milord, is…well, there ain't any better way to put it. A loser. E's a freak o' nature. You only have to look at the 'ideous clothes on him to notice that. The only possible aid he's ever contributed to his world might just be to have kept corduroy sales and Oxfam in business. But then there enough geography teachers and tramps around for 'im not even to 'ave made much of a difference to that. Not to mention 'ow practically blasphemous 'is colour co…"

The Prosecutor suddenly stopped to clear his throat. At least that's what it looked like he was doing. The Arbiter questioned this; "Is there a problem?"

Not-Recent Vince shook his head, his eyes squinting; "No…no, your 'onour. Just this vessel seems to have a habit of only being able to explain things in fashion terms." He cleared his throat again, "…S'awright, I can 'andle it."

"Proceed then." the Arbiter nodded.

"Well as I was trying to say at first, Master - the Accused isn't even supposed to be alive in the first place. Society itself rejects him, not out of any radical or daring movement he shows off. People blatantly ignore him because, clearly, there ain't anything to see. He is a shadow, my lord, crept in from a different time and not able to evolve with the rest of his kind. E's either forgotten, or shunned. Shunned 'cause 'e only thinks of his own self-worth. Shunned 'cause of his elitist and egotistical views on the world around him. 'E claims to deserve honour and glory and yet 'as never done anything to deserve such credits. When danger strikes, 'e runs, even if it means leaving those few closest to him to their own fate. It's only by the good will of the gods themselves that they have never truly come to any real harm - not by any actions this worm has performed. All he cares about is protecting 'is own miserable self."

Howard got to his feet, having reached the end of his tether. He fought in vain against the binds in his mouth to try and speak out. The Arbiter ordered the Defendant to control his client and Howard was brought back down. The frustrated Maverick faced his only companion, thinking his argument out loud. The Defendant nodded before getting to his feet.

"Ejection, your 'onour!"

"…I think you mean 'objection'." corrected the Arbiter.

"Whatever," the Defendant waved off; "My client would like to argue that he has risked his neck many a time in order to save others apart from himself."

The Prosecutor chuckled darkly. Howard was beginning to feel as much contempt for him as for the real Vince. The opposing impostor stepped closer to him; "Ah yes, let's remember these 'times', ey? I suppose there was the occasion where you searched through the violent snow storms of the Arctic tundra in order to find your friend, Vincent Noir."

Howard nodded proudly. He hadn't even been thinking of that event in particular but it supported his claim. That was until the Prosecutor curved his brow menacingly.

"And who was it who threw him out into the deadly environment in the first place?" He challenged.

Even if Howard could have spoken, he wouldn't have been able to reply to that.

"Then I suppose there is the time you allowed yourself to be shrunk down to microscopic size in order to enter the same friend's bloodstream to save him from a malignant jazz virus, yeah?"

Again, Howard nodded, wondering how that could possibly backfire on him as well.

Clearly it could, or else the cold glint in Vince's eyes wouldn't have petrified him so; "Jumped straight to that mission, didn't you Howard? You weren't going to let anything happen to your best mate, were you. As soon as you found out that 'e was dying and that you - and only you - could save 'im, there was no question of what needed to be done, was there?"

Unable to let his jaw hang, stunned, all Howard could do was stare back at the smug face leering across at him, his jaw tightening at each sarcastic tone in Vince's voice.

"No? That ain't 'ow it 'appened?" The Prosecutor teased, tilting his head to the side; "Oh! Maybe it went more like this." He raised his white hand and clicked his fingers in the air. Suddenly, Howard's own voice echoed around the court as if from an invisible set of surround speakers, the memory playing aloud for all to hear.

"_Look, he ate that record, he knew what he was doing. It's his own fault."_

"_He's gonna die, Howard!"_ Naboo's lisped voice rang out.

"_There's no way I'm going in there! It's suicide!"_

The Prosecutor clicked his fingers again. He gave a final smirk at Howard as if to say that no more needed to be said on the matter. And this time, Howard didn't have the strength to disagree. He sat back down, burying his face into his hands.

"It was only when his only get-out cause - a senile old man - said he was determined to do the mission that Howard Moon had no excuse. What would have been the point in running when there was a shaman in the room who could've forced him to do it anyway?" the Prosecutor reasoned cruelly.

"_That's a lie! I DID want to save him. I just took a little bit of…convincing."_ Howard's brain pleaded to his companion - who was too busy being distracting himself by blowing bubbles from a tube of bubble-mix he'd found in Vince's old jacket. Howard rolled his eyes, the familiar feeling of resentment at such a useless side-kick biting him in the arse.

The Prosecutor wasn't finished yet; "Thing is, milord. It isn't just Howard's uselessness that classifies him for extermination. The fact is, as I said earlier, 'e isn't meant to be 'ere in the first place. This is where I bring in my next piece of evidence, master." He reached into one of the pockets of his black suit jacket and pulled out a crumpled, tiny piece of paper, like a shopping list. He handed it to the Arbiter who examined it curiously.

"Would you care to explain this?" He replied lazily.

"O'course, your 'onour. That which you 'old is a receipt for a Death Cab from Monkey Hell to Bob Fossil's Zooniverse that was left on the seat of Phillip Mort's taxi on July 23rd, 2003. You see, milord, Howard Moon was supposed to 'ave died six years ago. For over a weak his body lay in the ground and it was only by the whim of a mere mortal that he was brought back to the living plane."

Howard beat his palm on the table; _"That wasn't my time! I was mistaken for a gorilla who was on death's door. Bollo's the one who should be dead - none of us know why he's still…WILL YOU STOP PLAYING WITH THOSE SODDING BUBBLES!"_

"_What? Oh, sorry."_ The Defendant blew the glossy balls of water away from him and closed the tube, stuffing it away. _"Strange, I never realized how genius these things were before."_

"_You useless twit! You had a go at me about getting my priorities in order. You're not even paying attention. He's just said that I was meant to have died six years ago 'cause of a receipt that you…that my stupid mate left behind."_

"_Really? Wow."_ The Defendant gave the Prosecutor an impressed glance; "_'E is good."_

"_Yes! He is! Now are you gonna do your job or sit there and look pretty?!"_ Howard's knuckles were white from gripping the edge of the table.

"_Awright small eyes, calm down. I've got an idea."_

For some reason, this didn't comfort Howard whatsoever.

The Defendant rose from his seat; "Master, I'd like to argue for my client's case now, if that's ok."

"Is the prosecution finished with it's argument?" The Arbiter asked.

"For now, your 'onour." The Prosecutor coolly sat down again, pulling out a magazine from beneath him that Howard hadn't noticed before - yep, NME - and opening it to read. Howard bit the inside of his mouth as he studied the little bitch, now lost in a world of flimsy pop stars and obscenely large hair.

The Defendant bounced up from his chair and half-skipped around the table to take the floor, looking up to the Arbiter. Howard wasn't sure why, seeing as there wasn't that many years that separated the two Vince's, but the Zooniverse Vince seemed somehow smaller than Black Tubes Vince.

"Wotcha, my lord." He chirped up, his mockney tone stronger than his opponents also, though his voice less brazen. "Now, I'd like to start by pointing out the obvious. Yes. Howard Moon is a loser. He's a freak, he's a coward, he's vain, pathetic, selfish and useless, he's an idiot, a buffoon, a dork, a batty crease-"

Howard's angrily slapped the table with his palm again.

"Well. Yeah, you get the message," the Defendant wrapped-up; "But my point, master, is that none of these flaws are completely Howard's fault. If there wasn't any reason behind his mind-numbing persona then it would make sense to do away with him. The fact he was raised in a spefi…sorry, spec-if-ic…way to end up as such a hopeless creature could well mean it was the will of the gods that he would still 'ere today."

"I'm assuming you wish to show us the proof of this 'moulding' of your client's character." said the Arbiter.

"Yes please, milord. I'd like to request to use the Mirror of Fates if that's ok."

The Arbiter nodded, apparently expecting this tool, whatever it was, to be used. "Request granted."

Howard watched as the skeletal hand rose from beneath the smoky cloak again to click at the air, the sound once again making him shudder in his seat. A grinding sound began to churn from beneath the floor. Howard looked over the table to near to where the Defendant was standing in Vince's favourite white cowboy boots. A secret hatch in the inky ground opened up just as a large, ancient crystal-clear mirror in an ornate, bronze frame was raised up into the room. It was truly beautiful. The surface was etched with intricate patterns and symbols unknown to Howard's world-wide knowledge. He suspected it was from the Arbiter's world. Either that or one of the few, or more like many, cultures whose originals Howard didn't have a single clue of.

Daring to stand up, and keeping on his feet when he wasn't immediately ordered to sit down, Howard stepped closer to gaze in wonder at the glorious object. In the mirror's perfect clarity, he saw both himself and Vince together…no. Him and his Defendant, looking back at him. For some strange compulsion which he couldn't understand, Howard didn't ever want to look away from the mirror.

The Defendant stood at the side of the mirror, laying a hand on the right bronze eagle wing; "Angel of the Past, I summon thee. By the name of the judge of all life. Get out 'ere!"

The surface of the mirror shone a brilliant white light. Howard had to shield his eyes with his arms before it dimmed again. He removed his bodily shield to see the very last face he was expecting to see in the crystal before him.

"Alright, alright, ya slags, I'm up already! Cor, my 'eads 'urtin. Where's that Saboo, I'm gonna garrote the tosser for spiking my drink last night!" whined the pink bulbous head as he rubbed his temples with two of his tentacles.

Howard ran a hand through his curls. _"YOU'RE - the angel of the past?"_

"That's right, sunshine, who did you expect? Cate Blanchett?" Tony Harrison replied to Howard's thought speech, shocking him immensely. "Listen, I've been moonlightin' this job for two 'undred years and it pays more than I get from Dennis in a month, the tight-wad."

"_I thought you said only you could hear me?"_ Howard glared at his Defendant.

"The Mirror of Fates can look into your soul. It knows everything." He explained weakly. "…Yeah, ok, I lied a bit."

"Listen, you numb-wads, I'm sufferin' through the come-down from 'ell 'ere, aright? So you mind getting' on with it and letting' me show you whatever the fuck it was you want me to show so I can go crack my 'ead open with a sledge hammer?" Tony moaned.

"Right, sorry, er…" Not-Zooniverse Vince pondered for what felt like minutes whilst everyone else apart from Howard tapped their fingers, or tentacles, impatiently. "Oh, yeah, ok! I've got it. Show us Christmas."

"Christmas? Which Christmas, love? I ain't tuned in perfectly, you'll have to be more specific."

"Uh, Howard Moon's Christmas…1986, please mate."

Howard furrowed his brow as he thought back to what significance that date could hold. Then it hit him and he felt a thousand volts of fear jolt through him. _"Wait, no! DON'T!" _He reached his hand towards the mirror.

"Too late, squire, your girlfriend chose the channel - so 'ere you go!" Tony Harrison croaked before vanishing beneath another glow of bright light from the crystal surface.

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**Reviews are love. Thanks for reading xx**


	4. Of Christmas Past

**Here's some more for you, my loves. Enjoy. Also, I know the Hen & Chicken's pub is in Islington but I'm sure there is more than one and, after all, this is the Boosh world :P  
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**Disclaimer: Still not mine. **

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When the light cleared, images began to come into perfect focus as if watching a HD television. The scene that began to play before him was exactly what Howard had been fearing in the pit of his gut. Yet, he knew he had no choice but to sit back and watch was he was already dreading to relive.

He saw in the mirror's surface a large, fancy study that was clearly one of many rooms in what anyone could assume was a rich, old-fashioned manor. At the desk, a dusty, huge book open in front of him, sat a glum fifteen-year-old boy dressed in his only real 'smart' clothes - a page boy-esque suit. Not that there was a wedding on at that time at all. Or any celebrations, despite it being Christmas day.

The young Howard Moon took another miserable sigh and turned the page of the battered history book, quickly copying down some more notes on the Battle of Hastings and William the Conqueror. Outside his window, on the road dressed with fine but gorgeous white snow-flakes, the Salvation Army band marched past, blowing the tune to _"Oh little town of Bethlehem."_ The heavenly sound of the brass instruments was all the young Howard had to keep him going throughout his studies.

Back in the present, the Arbiter's voice called up and shook Howard's focus from the memory; "Why is it on the day when his kind celebrates, he remains indoors and uncaring?"

Howard didn't attempt to answer the question, not that he could have. He gave his Defendant a knowing glance and the younger man answered for him; "Your 'onour, Howard's parents were strict puritans. Or so they called themselves. They claimed that Christmas was too commercialized and too pagan to be celebrated the same way everyone else did. If you accuse Howard of being old fashioned, milord, it really is nothing in comparison to 'is folks. 'E was locked in 'is father's study and forced to revise for his schoolwork to distract him from 'the silly shambles' of outside his parents London town house."

Back in the mirror, people were now dancing merrily behind the band and passed the young Howard's window. He kept his head down, hands over his ears, trying to blank out everything he was missing, memorizing the dates out loud instead of just in his head. Then a knock sounded at the door.

"I'm nearly finished, Ma, honest!" The boy called back, clearly tired. He was always promised that if he got through all his books then he'd be allowed to watch T.V for an hour.

The door burst open; "Alright Howie!"

It wasn't his mother that stormed in, but three burly, slightly tipsy boys all roughly Howard's age, though notably more well-built and, clearly, a lot happier. Each had neatly cut dark hair and thick, macho moustache's - whereas Howard had a slight fuzz on his upper lip. The older Howard watching gulped as he recognised them after all these years. Frank, Percy and George. All fellow 'Moons'.

In the mirror, the younger Howard slid off his chair, eyes already wide with fear; "You…you aren't meant to be in here. Your dad said-"

"Ha, as if Father is even sober enough to know our names by now." Frank chortled, slapping Howard on the back and nearly knocking him over at the force; "We wanted to come and see our favourite cuz. How you doing, Howie the Hermit?"

"My name is Howard!" he replied, scowling and stepping away from Frank's hand.

George then grabbed at his arm and tugged up the sleeve of his jacket; "Bloomin' heck, have you spilt cranberry sauce down your arm, Howie? Or you been giving yourself those Chinease burns again?"

Howard wrenched his arm back, cheeks flushing whilst the boys howled with laughter. He tried to make a run for the door but Percy held him back by the scruff of his clothes and picked up his history book; "What kind of geek does homework on Christmas day?!"

"A geek with no friends, clearly." Frank mocked.

"I do have friends!" Howard spat back defensively.

"You mean your little dolls? Sorry - 'toy soldiers'? They're better than nothing I suppose, ey Howie."

"Ey, listen guys, I think we should leave our cuz to his studies. We don't want Uncle Tom giving him, or us, a walloping, do we?" George winked to his brothers.

"Yeah, you're right." said Percy, still clutching onto Howard's clothes. The boy had given up struggling as it never got him anywhere but in more trouble usually. "But let's give him a bit of help, ey. He isn't gonna be able to absorb all that knowledge with gravity taking it's toll - let's help him so it goes straight to his brain…"

The thirty-four year old Howard kept his hands over his face. He couldn't bare to watch what happened next, even though it had been scarred permanently in his head for the past twenty years. He could hear his cousins cruel, taunting laughter and his own laughable cries of protest. He didn't look at the mirror until the sound quietened. When he moved his hands away, he saw on the mirror that his cousins had left his younger self in the study, locking the door on the way out.

As for the teenage Howard, he was now hanging upside down from one of the beams on the ceiling by the strength of all three of the boys ties around his ankles, the history book having been left in his hand. The young Howard kept trying to reach up to untie himself but couldn't keep himself curved upwards for long enough to attempt the tackle the three tight knots. He let his head flop back, dropping the history book to the floor, before letting his silent tears fall down over his brow.

"I see that fate has been as unkind to you as you have been neglectful of it's offerings," the Arbiter's voice solemnly sounded from decades away, inaudible to the tortured lad in the mirror; "Perhaps there is justification for the person you grew into. Prosecution, do you have anything to add to this?"

Unseen to Howard, who was too absorbed in watching the misery of his youth, the Prosecutor shook his head. There was a rustling sound and Howard guessed he was eating popcorn; "Not yet, your 'onour. I'm just 'appy to watch the rest of the memory play out."

Which they all did. The mirror's perception must have fast-forwarded because Howard could remember hanging for a lot longer until crying himself to sleep. The teenager was now hanging semi-conscious like a dull piñata. Then, suddenly, he was awoken by a sharp _tap-tap-tap_ on the window.

The young Howard squinted opened his eyes to see another face pressed up against the window. Floppy, long, dirty blond hair, a crooked nose, two bright baby blues and a Cheshire cat smile. Both Howards recognised the strange little face immediately.

"Vince!" the teenage Howard cried with relief.

God-knows-how, the eleven year old Vince Noir was able to pick the lock on the window from the outside and open it up, crawling through and into the study, dressed in an adorable - yet somehow trendy - elf costume.

"What are you doing here?!" Howard asked, hardly believing his eyes.

"Seasons greetin's to you as well, Howard! I managed to get Sarah to take us into town. Anyway, forget what I'm doen 'ere, what are you doen up there?!" The kid replied in a voice beyond his years.

He didn't even wait for Howard to answer his question. In a heartbeat, he climbed onto a chair and pulled out a pocket-knife from his costume - Howard didn't even think to ask, he suppose carrying a knife on you was one of the rules of survival when it came to being an orphan. He quickly got to sawing through the ties around Howard's ankles. Eventually, they broke and Howard fell, landing painfully on his head.

"Ow!"

"Sorry!" Vince laughed lightly, jumping off the chair and helping Howard to sit up. "Didn't have anything to cushion your fall. Next time your cousins do that to you, make sure it's somewhere with pillows like a bedroom or sommat, yeah?"

Howard glared at Vince, rubbing the bump on his head; "I'll keep that in mind, ta."

With Howard now free, he didn't need much persuading from Vince to sneak out of the house before his cousins or parents came to find him and go enjoy the parade. It didn't stop him from being nervous of getting caught and glancing back at his house every now and then to make sure they weren't being watched. His skinny little friend noticed this and grabbed Howard's hand, leading him swiftly around the corner and into the magical, festive streets of London town.

Eventually, Vince found his way back to his foster family by Trafalgar Square with Howard in toe. Sarah, arguably the kindest - though slightly eccentric - of all Vince's foster mothers, berated him at first for wondering off before giving him a big, maternal hug to show she was glad he was safe. She then turned to Howard and did likewise. Howard liked Sarah. He didn't even mind her almost lethal hugs. She always treated him like another of her foster children, which she all loved as if they were her own flesh and blood. Sarah invited Howard to join her, Vince and the other children to have Christmas dinner with them at the nearest pub. Vince's foster brothers and sisters all scowled at this idea, but the eager looks on both Sarah and Vince's face was enough to encourage Howard to take up the offer. It wasn't like he had anything more than stew and dumplings waiting for him at home.

Christmas dinner at the Hen & Chickens pub was the typical, cheesy merriment of paper hats, sing-a-longs and dinner which no one could completely finish - not as complete as most, of course. Sarah didn't have a quarter of the money Howard's parents possessed. Howard was allowed a small glass of wine with his food and cheekily snuck a few sips to Vince's lips, the two boys giggling like idiots as they tugged on their crackers and read out the mundane jokes inside. After pudding and having waited for their stomachs to settle, Vince took Howard's hand again and the two went back outside into the streets to play in the now three-inches thick snow.

Back in the courtroom, Howard watched with a vague warmth of nostalgia at one of the few moments he was ever really happy in life. Those were the best days, in spite of all the other crap in his life at the time, just being with Vince. Laughing with Vince. Playing around with Vince. Vince, Vince, Vince…

"Haha, even your snow angel looks like 'e could use a trip to Camden market, Howard." the eleven-year-old Vince chided in the mirror after the two boys looked at their finished results after laying in the snow.

"Shut ya mouth, Tinker Bell." Teenage Howard playfully swatted Vince on the arm. "At least mine don't look like sommat you hang on the tree."

"They look like they suit each other though, don't they?" Vince smiled, tilting his head as he observed their shapes in the ground. "Like they're different and all…but they like bein' together."

"How do you know? They haven't got faces."

Vince gave him his irritating, yet endearing, all-knowing smirk; "I can tell these things, Howard. S'one of my gifts. Now let's get to work on our snow-man."

"Uncle Tom! Uncle Tom, we found him! He's with his little hermaphrodite friend like we said!"

Howard's head snapped around as his cousin Frank's voice boomed out. At the corner of the street he spotted all three of his cousins watching him in ready amusement whilst they beckoned over the last man Howard wanted to see at that moment.

His father stomped around the corner, his beady eyes sizzling with fury as he strode past his smug nephews and along the pavement towards the quivering Howard.

"What do you think you're doing out here?!" Thomas Moon growled, towering over his son. "How dare you leave the house without our permission and hang around with this riff-raff!"

To Howard's chagrin, Vince stepped forward; "What choice did 'e 'ave? Them lot were bullying him again. It's Christmas day, you can't just keep 'im locked up! That's cruel to dogs, never mind Howard."

"You stay out of this, Oliver Twist! This doesn't concern you!" Thomas turned on the tiny boy. Sarah suddenly appeared and walked up to Vince, placing a pair of protective hands on his bony shoulders. But Vince was still standing his ground in loyalty to his friend.

"They're just children, Mr. Moon." She tried to reason with the fuming ex-army Sergeant.

"Yours is a child! My son is nearly a man. Or at least he should be one by now if he didn't waste his time day dreaming, playing stupid instruments and hanging around with waifs and strays." He spat, looking at Vince as if he was a mess on the sole of his finest pair of shoes. He then looked at his son and gave a painful tug on his forearm. "Home! Now! Before I really lose my temper with you!"

With that, Thomas turned his back and began to stomp back down the street, expecting Howard to follow behind him. The three Moon brothers still stood at the corner, snickering amongst themselves at their cousins despair. Howard took a deep breath, face red with humiliation, before he began to drag his feet in his father's path.

He quickly turned his head back to Vince and Sarah; "Thanks for the dinner." He muttered, then carried on walking.

"Howard, wait." Vince's voice crooned softly from behind him. He paused and turned around just as his friend trotted up to stand beside him. "M'sorry your family are such dickheads."

"Why should you be apologizing?" Howard smiled sadly. "They ain't your family. Anyway…if it weren't for you, I wouldn't even have had a proper Christmas this year."

Vince grinned from ear to ear at that; "You enjoyed it then?"

"That I did, little man." Howard nodded warmly.

"Genius! 'Appy Christmas, Howard." At that, Vince practically leapt forward and flung his arms up and around the young would-be-maverick's neck, his feet dangling above the ground.

Taken aback but touched, Howard reached his arms up to hold his small friend to him for a few precious seconds, breathing in the smell of his cheap hairspray. Then the mocking laughter reached his ears. In his mind's eyes, he could see his cousins already making their sad little jokes…and bubbling with excitement at the idea of calling back Howard's father to see his only son _hugging _another boy.

He had no choice.

Without even entangling Vince's arms from his neck, he shoved the kid away with a strength he didn't even know he possessed, the reluctant yet cold words sniping from the tip of his tongue: "Do…**don't touch me!**"

Vince's eyes, swamped with confusion, betrayal and a deep hurt, was the last sight that passed across the Mirror of Fate. Then the blinding light shone out once again and the mirror's surface was mere clear crystal, reflecting the present-day Howard's sunken face in it's surface. He could still see Vince's devastated visage that was now burned into his brain.

"_I pushed him away…"_

The Arbiter straightened up in his seat; "Prosecutor, you still don't wish to add any comment on what we saw?"

Black Tubes Vince-look-alike screwed up his empty bag of popcorn and threw it over his shoulder where it vanished in a puff of smoke; "No, master. I think what we saw speaks for itself."

Howard sat back down in his seat, seeing himself in a new, harsh, cold light. He turned to his Defendant who was currently nibbling his thumb-nail, avoiding Howard's desperate gaze.

"Hmm," he mused. "That…didn't exactly work as I planned."

Howard let his forehead slam down onto the desk.

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**Reviews help Howard's case, just so you know.**


	5. A Fallen Star

**Thank you, Brie, for your reviews. You're the only one reading this anymore apparently so this chapter is dedi'd to you, hun. Gets a bit more angsty here, I'll pre-warn.  
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**Disclaimer: Still not mine.  
**

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"_I pushed him away….I. pushed. Him…"_ Howard continued to ponder, shame gnawing at his flesh. The sudden reality of his treatment towards his sweet little friend making him want to stab himself, as what he was already subconsciously doing wasn't enough of a punishment. _"Pushed him away…"_

"Yeah, that's right. Keep twisting your arm. That'll make everything better." His side-kick mumbled, sarcastically, whilst playing 'snake' on Vince's dated Nokia 360.

Howard quit scolding himself with Chinese burns and turned on his Defendant, furiously, growling as his mind spoke out for him; _"What the hell was the point of that, you cretin? Ain't you supposed to be proving that I'm actually WORTH something!"_

"_Look, I'm sorry, alright!" _His Defendant cowered slightly, _"As for showing what you're 'worth', that's pretty difficult considering who I'm working for 'ere. The reason I wanted to show that was to prove that you ain't a waste of space by choice - you were made, unfairly, into the dork you are." _Howard almost rose up at that point but his companion raised a placating hand; _"And, for the record, it was going well - you had my Master's sympathy for a second. S'not my fault you chose to shove back the only help that was offered to you at that time."_

"_What else could I have done?! I had to watch everything I did while I lived at that place. One foot out of line and I'd be in for it. People always assume the worst of me…And as for Vince,_" He quickly shoved his shame into the sand to bury it for a moment, _"He shouldn't have kept pushing me. The little titbox was always clinging to me like a leech, sucking the energy out of me and holding me back from achieving anything, it was embarrassing! Not to mention always getting me in trouble - which he continues to this day."_ Howard hissed through his binds, throwing a dark look at the Prosecutor's direction.

"…_So who was it who always got you out of trouble?"_ The Defendant pressed, curiously.

"_Well…" _Howard's thoughts came to a halt on their train tracks. _"…Vince. It was always Vince."_

The sound of a gavel banging brought both their attentions back to the podium. The Arbiter wasn't even holding anything in his hands. "Defendant. Does your client have anything to add on what we just saw that you need to say for him?"

"Yeah, your 'onour." chirped the Defendant, getting to his feet. "He says that Vince was a clingy little sod who got on his wick and was to blame for everything that went wrong in his life and he had no choice but to shove him away."

"_THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAID!" _Howard groaned, standing up and waving his hands as if signaling a plane to land. This caused the Prosecutor to start laughing and Howard had to resist the urge to punch the Camden whore in his smug jaw.

His Defendant gave Howard an incredulous look; "That's pretty much the jist of it though, yeah?"

"_NO. It wasn't like that at all…I just…" _He tried to think back on the words he had said. Yet when he tried to reply them in his mind, all he could hear was the summary in the younger Vince's voice that he'd just heard.

On the other side of the room, the Prosecutor took to the floor; "I'd like to say my bit now please, your 'onour."

"Granted - if the Defendant has no more to say." the Arbiter allowed.

Howard knew he was far from done yet. But when he looked to his side, he noticed that his lawyer had already slumped back into his seat and was now leaning forward over a piece of paper - _"Where is he getting these things from?" _mused Howard - and scrawling over it with a piece of crayon. Howard nudged him eagerly with a fist to the shoulder to show he wasn't finished yet - but the Vince-look-alike just batted his clients hand away, focused primarily on whatever he was doodling.

The Prosecutor didn't even wait for Howard to sit back down, his speech already thoroughly prepared; "Master, what you witnessed just then in that mirror was obvious proof that Howard Moon's let downs in life aren't just to be blamed on a harsh upbringing. Despite the grounding from his parents, he was still able to defy them by going outside and joining in with the celebrations which they so vehemently despised. Yet, when it came to appreciating the true compassion and generosity of his only friend - he chose to push it back. And he's been doing that ever since, my lord."

Growing hot with building frustration, Howard nudged the boy beside him again who was still absorbed in his drawing of what appeared to be a small yellow dog.

"_Aren't you gonna do anything useful?!"_ He fumed at his Defendant.

"_Hold on a sec. Plan Puppy ain't quite finished. Then we should have an idea…"_ thought the Zooniverse Vince aloud, tongue in his cheek.

"_Plan **Puppy**?! You can't even upgrade to a pony at least?!" _Howard growled, snatching the paper from under his lawyer's hands and screwing it into a ball._ "You are useless!" _

The Defendant looked up with a familiar sulky expression; _"Ey, listen, it ain't my fault you chose me to be such an idiot."_

"_Chose?! When did I fucking choose to be lumbered with-"_

"Your 'onour. My opponents silence speaks for itself." The Prosecutor smirked.

"_Silence?! MY MOUTH HAS BEEN SEWN TOGETHER WITH WIRE!"_

Howard's incoherent cries were ignored as the Prosecutor continued; "As they've got nothing to present for their case, my lord, I'd like to show my next piece of evidence - I request to summon the Angel of Now."

"What is your reason for this?" The Arbiter queried.

"Master, I wish to show how Howard Moon's callous treatment of the closest person to him has effected his life up till now. That the poor lad's efforts have been sadly wasted to the point his own life would have been better if he'd never met the Accused."

Howard scoffed as he kicked the table leg. '_Poor lad'? _He knew that Vince was, at the moment, no doubt partying up with Leroy at the Velvet Onion, having the time of his life. Or maybe performing solo and having hordes of Camden admirers falling to kiss his feet. They always did love Vince more than Howard. Now, without anyone to step on his precious style, he must have had everything he ever waned. He could bet that the futuristic prostitute had no space in his high spirits to spare a single worry to his ex-best mate. Even if he'd known that Howard's very existence was on the line, it's not as if Vince Noir would have given a spare second to try and save him after the way they'd left things.

After being given the nod of approval by the Arbiter, the Prosecutor stepped back up to the dormant Mirror of Fates to place his hand on the frame: "Angel of Now, I summon thee. By the name of the judge of all life. Show your face!"

Once again, the mirror's surface shone with a heavenly white light before fading to reveal a contrastingly dark figure in the surface. Howard had to squint for a bit to recognise the face. Then he ran a hand over his worn forehead.

"Would someone care to explain why I've been summoned at this time? I was busy tweeting the photos of what Harrison got up to last night to Dennis and Kirk and lost connection - for what, I ask you?!" Saboo the Shaman groaned.

"Silence. You have been summoned by the Arbiter of Life to assist in the case against Howard TJ Moon." the Prosecutor informed in a strict, dominating voice so unfitting to the sunshine kid who's body he possessed. Well, not quite as bright a sunshine kid as had once been, Howard thought privately.

Saboo glanced across the room to Howard, his eyes narrowed; "That cretinous friend of Naboo's? Ha, I always bet that he'd end up here eventually, the doss bag. That ape owes me twenty euros."

Howard chose not to rise to this, though he was a bit surprised with this information. _"Bollo bet in favour of me?"_ Maybe his gorilla flatmate didn't hold such animosity towards him after all. Perhaps he felt a lot more respect for Howard then he cared to show.

"He bet that you'd already have killed yourself before the Arbiter summoned you." Saboo informed Howard dryly.

The maverick rolled his eyes. That would teach him to raise blind hope.

The Prosecutor stepped in the way between the mirror and the disgruntled northerner. "Angel of Now, I want you to show us Vince Noir's present. 'Urry up."

"Alright, sweetheart, wouldn't hurt you to ask a bit nicer. I'm not a juke box." Saboo snapped back.

Another flash of light brightened, then dimmed, removing Saboo's hardened face and revealing a filmic look into the mortal world once again. This time, Howard noticed whilst looking up with vague interest from his table - he already knew this was a waste of court time, even if time was something he was trying to cling to as much as possible - the mirror showed a window-view look onto a dark, familiar city street at night. Heavy rain pelted it down onto the pavement whilst the occasional clap of thunder ripped through the sky. Howard recognised the area even before the flashing neon sign saying 'The Velvet Onion' came into view. Yep, just as he'd been expecting.

He waited for the camera to zoom into the building and show the great and spectacular Vince Noir, Rock N' Roll star, pulling shapes; left, right and center, to a crowd of star-struck young clubbers. Except, it didn't. Instead, the 'camera' (had there been one) started to pan to the right of the club and towards the notorious alley ways that Howard and Vince always made sure to avoid when making their way to and from the night club. For in those alleys resided the lowest and filthiest of Dalston's trash. Addicts, dealers, tramps, rapists, whores - you name it, they infested it. Howard's brow curved with confusion.

"_This isn't right. I thought you were gonna show me Vince's present? Doesn't that mean where he is now?" _

"_Shhh, pipe down, I'm trying to watch this!"_ His Defendant batted his arm, annoyed.

Howard stood up and began to edge closer to the mirror's surface. The screen was now focusing in on the line of smelly, haggard homeless people that would crouch outside the club and hope to pick up euros carelessly dropped by blind drunks, or given a few cents by a rare kind passer-by. Howard always made sure to do his best to avoid walking past those lot when he could, knowing that Vince would always stop to offer a ridiculous amount of money, being too generous for his own good - which was a feat considering the young man very rarely had any pockets for change on him. Howard had tried to explain to him that the tramps would most likely just use the money on drugs or booze - but one of Vince's biggest weakness was always expecting the best of people, no matter how gritty and dangerous they appeared.

Perhaps that was what the camera was panning to at the moment. Only he couldn't see Vince standing anywhere, offering any charity to the lost souls squatted on the pavement, clutching their cans of electric soup. Then his eyes widened at a peculiar sight. One of the squatters was wrapped in a silver and blue sequin cape with a peacock feathers along the hem. Howard was certain that Vince owned a cape like that. He inwardly gasped, struck with disbelief that Vince would give away one of his beloved pieces of clothing to a dirty, begging stranger. The foolish youth had no idea of the value of money whatsoever. But fashion was a whole different fabric of elbow patch.

The small creature hidden beneath the cape stirred as the rain began to lighten slightly. A tuft of wet, raven hair crept out from beneath - and Howard's heart became lodged in his throat.

"_No…no. Please god, no."_

Sure enough, to Howard's growing bewilderment, Vince - _his _Vince's face - rose up from beneath the fabric. His features, illuminated by the bright, multi-coloured neon lights and streetlamps showed the heavy, deep, sunken look in his eyes that were usually so filled with life they could make a tortoise dance. They were red-rimmed and it had been obvious he'd been crying. His hair was a state, clearly not having been touched with a single product all day.

It didn't make sense. Why was he on the street? Why wasn't he at Leroy's or any of his other million friends? Or even in the club? Howard's stomach tightened at the sight of Vince so close to all those dangerous monsters of the night. Then, out of nowhere, a spark of pride lit in Howard's chest.

So he'd been proved right. The mod really was hopeless without him. So much for Howard being worthless; Vince _needed _him to survive. Look at him! One day separated and already the great Vince Noir had been forced to sink to living in the sewers, or near enough. He was all set to laugh at his futile victory, until a man in a trench-coat walked up to where Vince was sat and shook his shoulder, making Vince look up at him. He then took Vince's hand and brought him up to his feet, then began to lead him away into the night. Howard took one look at the man and a furious rage so powerful and unexplainable to him suddenly catapulted his body forward towards the mirror, reaching his hand out.

"_VINCE! DON'T YOU GO-"_ He started to scream through his binds as he sprinted forwards to reach the Mirror of Fate. To reach Vince.

His fingers touched the surface…or at least he expected them to, not go straight through the crystal as if it didn't even exist and fall into the scene that he'd just been watching. He stood up, finding himself on the street outside the Velvet Onion, with people walking past him, seemingly not having notice him stumble in from another spiritual plane whatsoever, droplets of water splattering onto his face. Howard glanced backwards, expecting to see the mirror and look back into the Court of Merit with the two Vince's glancing at him. There was just the other side of the street and another crowd of people.

He was free.

Howard thought it was too good to be true. All this time he could have just fallen through the mirror to get out of that place? It seemed too simple. And why hadn't anyone stopped him? He reached his hand up to his lips and felt the tight, ropey binds still tightening them together. His man of action senses told him that it wasn't over yet.

He looked up towards the end of the street just in time to spot a whirl of peacock feathers go around the corner. _"Vince!" _

Howard dashed forward, barging past the hip club-goers who were all now giving him even more disgusted looks than normal, considering his freakish mouth. He finally reached the corner and tugged on Vince's cape that was blowing in the wind. The electro boy instantly clutched the garment closer to his body before whirling around, prepared to give the twat who dared to touch his precious cape a right telling off, before his eyes sprung wider with surprise.

"Howard!" Vince cried, his voice high-pitched with shock and…fear?

The maverick winced as he noticed the tinge of blueberry on his friend's cheekbone that remained from their last encounter. He could've cut off his own hand at his guilt.

Either way, it felt surprisingly good for Howard to hear Vince - the _real _Vince - say his name again. His relief was so overwhelming that he was tempted to embrace the younger man to him. He may have done, had it not been for the guy in the trench coat who had taken Vince's hand now watching them intently from a couple of metres away.

"Wha…what are you doing here?" asked Vince, wrapping the cape around himself as if for further protection. He frowned at Howard's sewn lips; "What's wrong with ya mouth? Did you harass another seamstress?"

Howard tried to deny such an accusation and defend himself by claiming, once again, that the last seamstress who tried to go at him with a threading needle had merely misheard his attempts to woo her carefully and that the restraining order was completely uncalled for. But all that came out was more muffled mumbling.

"I don't speak 'smothered with a pillow' talk, Howard. What the 'ells going on? What 'appened to you?" Vince asked, worry clearly growing in his tired eyes.

Glancing back over his shoulder, Howard saw yet another tramp he'd passed, huddled against the wall and using a pocket knife similar to the one Vince had once possessed, cutting through a tin of cold beans. Howard rushed over and grabbed the knife out of the old man's hands, ignoring his protests as Howard raised it to his own mouth and started to cut through each wire that crossed over his lips. It was surprisingly excruciating and Howard tasted the copper tinge of blood in his mouth. The wires seemed to have melded into his flesh. He groaned aloud, handing the knife back to the bemused tramp and flexing his jaw. He turned back to face Vince, wiping the blood and sliced wire from his chin.

The squeamish mod looked ready to faint; "Howard, what…Are you okay?"

"No, Vince, as a matter of fact, I'm NOT ok!" Howard vehemently yelled, thrilled to have the power of speech back once more; "Since you ran off like a petulant teenager, I've been kidnapped by an alien priest who's declared himself judge, jury and executioner of the entire universe. I've had to relive one of the most painful memories of my childhood as well as having my mouth sewn together and my only assistant having the attention span of a three-year-old. And now I've just had to cut open my mouth with a filthy knife and probably given myself tetanus. So, no, as it turns out, I'm not exactly 'ok' tonight, which may shock you."

Vince opened his mouth, apparently still working out what to say, knocked for six by Howard's story. Before he could speak a word, a large hand clapped him on the shoulder, catching both Vince and Howard's attentions.

"Is there a problem, Sugar?" the tall man with piercing grey eyes in the trench coat asked him in a deep, drawling voice.

"Who's this berk?" Howard asked, discomforted by the glint in the man's eyes as he looked down at Vince.

"Oh, Howard this is David. David, this is my mate; Howard." Vince casually introduced as if the three had all clashed at a party instead of a dark street corner on a drizzling night.

David smirked at Howard knowingly; "Ah. So this is the reason you were forced to leave home."

"Vince, why are you with this guy?" Howard asked, ignoring David's sneer; "Why ain't you at Leroy's?

"'E's at his ski lodge, Howard. I ain't got the money to go to France yet. And Fossil's still banned us from the Onion after our last gig there that 'caused him several grand worth of damage. No where else would pay me to perform without someone to do the music while I pull my shapes and sing. I'm broke."

"But you've got loads of other friends, why ain't you staying with them? Why are you on the streets?"

Vince ducked his head; "I ain't on the streets." He replied, blushing, avoiding Howard's first question about his so-called 'other friends'.

"I saw you curled up there with the others just now!"

"Who are you? Big Brother?" Vince rhetorically asked with a scowl; "I was just waiting for David, all right? They wouldn't let me wait inside the club doorway. And it was cold and wet and my legs hurt from-"

"From what?" Howard asked, his heart rate increasing.

Vince shook his head; "Nothin', I've just been walking around a lot today, m'fine. But I ain't living on the streets ok? I'm staying with David." At that, Vince reached up a hand to hold the one on his shoulder.

Howard bit down on the inside his lip, giving David his most threatening northerner's glare; "And who the hell is 'David' then?"

"He's my friend, Howard." replied Vince defiantly. "We met while I was wondering around Covent Garden this morning'. And 'e works in entertainment - 'E's gonna be my new manager. How cool is that? 'E's gonna find me some proper gigs to do. 'E's gonna look after me. Ain't ya, David?"

The tall stranger gave Vince a nod of reassurance. Howard's protective senses flared up ten fold. Vince may have held a lot of strengths which Howard envied but he knew that Vince's naivety was one weakness he himself couldn't claim to hold. He'd seen that spark in David's eyes before, what felt like a lifetime ago, even if his scars made it feel like yesterday. His mind flashed back to when his parents had moved back to Leeds and, in a long-awaited act of rebellion, Howard had chose to stay behind in London - homeless. It wasn't too long after that that he'd met people who looked at him the same way David was looking at Vince now. Touching him possessively the same way David's hand was clasped on Vince's alluring frame. Someone giving him false promises. Promising to 'look after him.'

Howard felt physically sick. Sure, Vince was a sparkly tit who wound him up to the point of insanity, but there was no way in this lifetime or any other that he was gonna let his best friend fall into the dangerous spiral of degradation and depravity that he'd once felt so trapped in. His beautiful, innocent Vince was worth so much more than that.

"Vince, look at me!" Howard ordered, regressing into his old 'employer' tone that he used to use at the zoo. Surprisingly, Vince responded to this, snapping his head round to face Howard obediently; "That man is dangerous. You can't go off with him."

"You don't even know him, Howard."

"Neither do you! For Christ sake, Vince, you said he met you this morning. He could be anyone for all you know. You can't trust him just 'cause of what he says - remember the incident with the Crack Fox?"

"What would you prefer? That I slept on the streets and took a load of smack like those guys around the corner? Or sold myself to any Tom, Dick and Harriet?"

"Of course not!" Howard replied, fiercely. "I want…I want you to come home. With me."

Vince's face softened, his mouth gaping open slightly with surprise. Behind him, David pulled his hand back from Vince's shoulder, taking two steps backwards, though keeping his eyes open, no blinking whatsoever, on the duo before him. The guy's silent presence made Howard's skin crawl. He had to get Vince away from him. He had to keep Vince safe.

The mod stared at Howard for a moment, looking as if he was replaying his friend's last words in his mind, before shaking his head; "No, I…H'ward, I can't go back."

"What? 'Course you can, you muppet. It's your home as well. Bollo and Naboo want you there more than they want me."

"But you don't want me there." Vince's voice was so flat and defeated that it nearly knocked Howard back where he stood.

"I…That's not true." He denied, shakily.

"Yes it is. It's alright, Howard, you don't have to lie. I get it now. That's why I left. You're better off away from me. All I do is make you miserable. I do stupid stuff without thinking straight and it makes you angry. I make you cry. What kind of best mate does that make me, ey? You…hurt yourself 'cause of me."

"Vince, I don't hurt myself 'cause of you, okay? That's my own problem that I need to sort out on my own, it's nothing to do with you, alright?" Howard became aware of the meaning of his words after he spoke them aloud. "And you don't make me miserable. You get on my nerves a bit but I get on yours as well, it's how we work. You do more to make me happy than anyone in this world has ever done."

"But I hold you back, Howard. You're a musical genius, even if it is with something as lame as jazz, you're still the best in town. What do I do, ey? Just prance around, lookin' amazing and not even really singing well, just stealing all the limelight from you. You're the one who deserves it - not me. If it weren't for me, you'd be famous by now, but I always ruin everything don't I? We would've got to America for our big break if I hadn't got us thrown overboard."

"That was an accident, Vince. It just wasn't meant to be, that's all. It was no one's fault. And you're so talented, I mean that, you're the 'sunshine' person of our duo, remember?" Howard tried to sooth, fully aware that David was still watching them eerily.

The mod gave a sad smile; "No. You're right, Howard. We…it just weren't meant to be. See ya." His voice cracked like a pre-teens at those last two words.

"Vince, wait!" Howard stepped forward before Vince could turn his back on him. "Look…I know I said some horrible things. And, alright, maybe I meant some of them but-"

"You said I was dead to you." Vince's voice stretched with hurt.

"I know. I know and I'm so sorry. That, I swear, I didn't mean, I promise. I was just angry, that's all, I swear." Howard said, genuine fear that he could lose his one and only friend beginning to sink into his bones; "Vince, please, just come home with me and we'll talk about this properly, yeah? Over a cup of hot chocolate. With marshmallows?"

A flash of excitement lit up Vince's eyes for a split second. Then it faded; "…I…I'm going with David…" His voice was weak; deeply unsure of itself.

"No, Vince, listen to me!" Howard's voice pitched with desperation; "I know you ain't stupid."

Vince raised an eyebrow at him.

"Okay, I know you're not _completely _stupid. I know you're smart enough to trust me when I say I just want what's best for you. And I know that somewhere in your 'ead you now that this guy isn't safe - you're just going with him 'cause you had no where else to turn. But I'm here now. So please, just…walk away from him, ok? Just come here." Howard held out his hand, palm facing upwards and prepared to take Vince's.

The confused electro boy looked at Howard's outstretched hand. Then he looked back to David, who was still merely watching him with an unreadable expression. Vince gulped, turning back to face Howard, looking like a frightened baby animal caught between an oncoming truck and a ravenous tiger.

Seeing this, Howard's voice became softer as he beckoned Vince to him; "It's okay, little man. Just take my hand. Take my hand and we'll go home and everything will be fine. No more yelling or fights, I promise. That's a Howard Moon promise."

Vince failed to suppress a small smile. Howard noticed the light begin to return to those unearthly eyes. Two days of living on the streets, scared and alone, had clearly given a noticeable knock to Vince's devil-may-care character. The longing for warmth, safety and simple home comforts that he once took for granted was easy to read in his pale, restless face. Slowly, tentatively, he began to move his drenched, filth-splattered boots towards where Howard was stood waiting. He raised a hand to take his friend's and Howard breathed a sigh of divine gratitude.

Before their hands could so much as touch, David had already pounced forward, quick as lightning, and caught his distracted pray in a headlock. Howard's gut crashed and burned.

"VINCE!" He cried out.

"AAAH - _HOWARD!" _

Vince screamed over the claps of thunder as he was wrenched backwards, his neck now locked in David's strong arms, a deadly steak knife pressed to his throat. David's once deadpan face was now creased with a monstrous blood-lust as he wrestled Vince against him.

Howard marched forward, his chest tight with terror and rage, keeping a safe distance but only so David wouldn't hurt Vince if he got too close. He refused to let his eyes leave Vince's horrified, pleading face for a second.

"LET HIM GO! YOU LET HIM GO, RIGHT NOW!" Howard commanded, shouting loud enough to wake the whole of Shoreditch. "LET HIM GO, I SAID! LET. HIM. GO!"

"Shut it, Granddad. You ain't taking this new precious toy away from me. 'E's gonna come in useful, I just know it. Get your own whore." David spat, keeping the knife-edge pressed to Vince's throat.

The younger man's bright eyes shone up to Howard, glistening with unshed tears. His scratched voice was heartbreaking; "Howard…!" He began to struggle bravely - or foolishly - against David's hold.

"Vince!" Howard cried again, reaching his hand out.

The heel of a cowboy boot collided with David's crotch and he was forced to relinquish his hold on Vince, just long enough for the mod to wriggle free before he could straighten up again. Vince stumbled forward and reached out his hand to take Howard's again. Their fingers stroked over each other and Howard felt a wave of hope crash inside of him. He was ready to grab Vince and have the two of them run for their lives from this nightmare as fast as they could. He saw Vince raise a smile as he came nearer to him. Everything was going to work out, just as it always did.

Light flashed blindingly across Howard's vision. Everything around him disintegrated within two seconds, burnt away by the dazzling white shine - the street, the rain, David, everything. Including Vince.

"NO!" Howard screamed as the light faded and he found himself back in the one place he'd hoped never to see again.

Back in the fucking Court of Merit.

He rushed up close to the Mirror of Fates, its surface back to its blank, clear beauty. He pressed himself against the solid surface and pounded his fist against it, face hot with boiling anger and eyes scrunched up as he punched and clawed at the crystal before him.

"TAKE ME BACK! TAKE ME BACK!" He roared uncontrollably, not caring at all that he was hurting his own fists with his useless attempts to break through the mirror again. "FUCKING TAKE ME BACK!"

That cold, unfeeling copy of his own voice teased his ears; "The Angel of Now cannot be summoned more than once in the same case."

"I DON'T CARE! YOU HAVE TO TAKE ME BACK!" Howard continued to rage like a wild animal, throwing himself against the unrelenting mirror. "HE NEEDS ME! HE COULD BE DEAD ALREADY - YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE HIM TO DIE!"

"It is not our place to interfere with the fates of living beings. Only with those that do not 'live' the life they have in the first place. What happens to your friend is down to the will of the gods." explained the Arbiter.

Howard thumped the mirror again; "FUCK YOUR STUPID GODS! I'm an atheist anyway! I don't give a toss about any of that! All I care about is…is…"

At that, Howard lost what little grasp on his own emotions that he had left. He fell to his knees against the mirror, crumbling into heart-wrenching sobs, digging his nails painfully against the crystal until they began to bleed. In his mind, Vince's face kept flashing across like a tortuously stunning siren. His wide, sparkling blue eyes calling out to him. All the resentment, all the bitterness, all the betrayal of their earlier fight completely forgotten. Replaced by just an all-consuming, overpowering need to be together again. They'd come so close. So close. And now it was all lost. Again.

Howard remained howling like a wounded beast against the mirror, shuddering ferociously with every animalistic wail that he let out, for a good two minutes before a pair of bony hands managed to pull the broken northerner away from the magic object and back to his seat, the hands then proceeding to just rub his shoulders, though it brought no real comfort at all. Howard merely curled forward, continuing to let his tears slide down his cheeks whilst the three alien beings watched him like a strange zoo exhibit. He didn't even acknowledge that they were there. His best friend could be lying, dead, in a pool of his own blood at that very moment. Those gorgeous eyes now dimmed and soulless…and it was all Howard's fault. He'd failed Vince for the last time.

Nothing mattered to Howard anymore. They could do whatever they liked with him. He knew that even a fate worse than death couldn't possibly be more painful than the suffering in his shredded heart.

* * *

**Eeep. Sorry :P Punish me with reviews if you must.**


	6. Da F'yoochaa

**Ugh, I writ yet another unnecessarily long and angsty chapter, so I had to split it again. Enjoy anyway. And thank you for the reviews :)**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine.  
**

* * *

It took a while for Howard to finally calm down and stop crying. All the while, his Defendant kept rubbing his back in soothing circles.

There was something about his new client that truly gave him an odd feeling of empathy. This wasn't usually the case. Most of the time, his master picked out people who truly deserved to be erased and the Defendant proceeded with a reluctant effort to present a half-hearted case as to why they should be given a second chance which, typically, they didn't deserve. Howard was different. Ok, so he was clearly a bumbling idiot but he genuinely seemed like a good guy, deep down. His passion to try and save that friend of his had been heart-wrenching to watch. The poor love was clearly no more than a very broken, unlucky man. Not a villain.

He gave Howard another supportive squeeze to the shoulder, speaking in a soft voice he was glad that his vessel was clearly suited to; "Don't lose hope now. You dunno; he could still be alive."

Howard shook his head; "You don't know Vince." He was too depressed to get the irony who he was speaking to, "H-he wouldn't have gone quietly, not if he's scared and knows he's in danger. He'd've tried to get away no matter what or die tryin'…oh god." He buried his face in his hands again, grasping the finality his words proved.

The Defendant gave another squeeze. He wasn't sure what else he could say. Nothing that could give Howard the reassurance he needed at that moment. He tried to think; a difficult task with the brain of his simple vessel. Coming up with any plan felt like fighting his way through a room full of cotton wool. Or candy floss.

Meanwhile, the Prosecutor was assessing what they had just witnessed, seemingly indifferent to Howard's pain; "Master, what you witnessed just then was someone's life having been lost and endangered down to the selfish actions of the Accused. He drove his young friend into the shadows and changed him into what he is today; a lost soul. Had Howard Moon never existed then who knows what Vince Noir may have been able to accomplish in his life? How far would he have gone without the Accused holding him back and putting him down? Not to mention anyone else who has been kept back or contaminated by Howard Moon's involvement. Therefore, for my next piece of evidence, I request to use-"

"ERECTION!"

Everyone's eyes, including Howard's, turned to the Defendant who had suddenly jumped to his feet.

The Arbiter groaned: "…Objection?"

"Yeah, that's the one." the Defendant piped, "Milord, the Prosecutor guy 'as already 'ad his turn just now. My client 'asn't even had a chance to give a statement to defend 'imself or what 'appened."

Ignoring the Prosecutor's indignant scoff, the Arbiter nodded; "Fair point. Does the Accused have anything to say on the evidence shown in the Mirror of Fates."

The Defendant turned to look down at his client expectantly, only to find him still slouched, staring dejectedly down at the table. He shook him on the shoulder; "Howard, c'mon. Say something. Stand up for yourself!"

Howard shrugged grumpily; "I'm not playing with this anymore."

"If you don't defend yourself, or tell me what to say for you, then you're gonna get rubbed out!"

"I don't care." He hissed, digging his nails into his corduroy trousers; "I just wanna see Vince again. My…the _real _Vince."

An idea suddenly shone alight amongst the haze in the Defendant's brain. He bit his lip, thinking it over a second time, not that it added any clarity to the plan. He guessed that this mind wasn't used to thinking things over carefully. He took a deep breath;

"Master." He said firmly, looking up to the Arbiter. "My client doesn't have anything to say on what we were shown. But, instead, I'd like to request to use the Mirror of Fates again now. I'd like to summon the-"

"Don't even think about it, squirt! I was going to summon him!" The Prosecutor spat bitterly from his table.

The Defendant threw him a dirty smirk; "I know you were, you…" His last word of that sentence was unheard under the loud 'BLEEP!' that filled the room. He looked back up to the Arbiter; "My lord - I'd like to summon the Angel of the Future."

Once again, the Arbiter allowed it. The same process of before of the Defendant walking up to the mirror's frame and touching it before uttering the magic words was repeated. "…by the name of the judge of all life. What you waitin' for, Christmas?" spoke the Defendant and, after another flash of light, the face of Naboo's boss, the Head Shaman, appeared in the mirror, to Howard's unsurprised and uncaring notice. His idea of what 'angels' were supposed to look like now having been torn apart was the least of his worries.

"Ah, the Court of Merit! I see it's been touched up slightly since I was last summoned. Nice shade of Oblivion, must recommend it to the wife for our dining room," Dennis commented; "Ah yes, sorry, how may I be of assistance?"

"Basically, we need to look into the future." the Defendant stated simply.

"Uhm…yes. I kind of figured that already. Any particular time, my dear?"

"Oh yeah, sorry." the Defendant threw a glance in Howard's direction, noticing the maverick's focus has been pulled back to the mirror again; "Take us to the final thirty minutes of the life of Vince Noir. Can you do that?"

Howard was on his feet again, a second wind of energy and hope having been granted to him.

Dennis frowned at first. Then he nodded; "Yes, I can do that if you so wish."

"Defendant, I'm beginning to get the sense that this case revolves more around Vincent Noir then it does of the Accused." The Arbiter moaned, tiredly, in his seat.

Howard clicked his tongue; "Yep. That's my life story."

"Please, master! I do 'ave a good reason for requestin' this, you'll see!" the Defendant said in a tone Howard instantly recognized as the one Vince used to use to get round him to buy him some sweets or bunk off their shifts to go into town. It brought a fond smile to his lips.

"Fine. And you better have." the Arbiter warned, in a hauntingly similar tone that Howard would use to reply to Vince after being sucked into some scheme; "Minion of the Mirror, obey my servant."

Dennis squirmed, presumably knocked off his typically righteous pedestal at having been referred to as 'minion'. Never the less, he bowed his bald, pale head and soon vanished beneath the mirror's glowing surface. The Defendant turned to look at his client, fixing their eyes in a serious, knowing glance.

If the angel of the future was able to look ahead of them and see the final half hour of Vince Noir's life then it must have meant that the mod wasn't already dead. However, if he had been grabbed by the knife-wielding pimp and allowed to stay alive for a short time, it still meant his time was critical before being abused, stabbed and thrown away with the next morning's rubbish. Thirty minutes would give Howard more than enough time to save him. He didn't need to indulge to Howard the knowledge that, as he'd been summoned by the Arbiter, he was now invincible until acquitted, so no fatal harm could come to him as he faught to save his friend. He'd undoubtedly find that out himself.

For a slow-minded buffoon, Howard seemed to have understood the point of the Defendant's plan, judging by the confident glint in his tiny eyes. As the mirror continued to shine, the Defendant took a step to the side, allowing his client a obstacle free run-up to it. Howard gave him a grateful smile.

_"Thanks…."_ He used his ever-present thought speech, despite being able to talk again. He didn't want to risk the Arbiter catching whiff of their scheme.

_"Don't thank me yet. You've got half an hour. Go!"_ The Defendant goaded back.

Howard didn't need telling twice. As the light from the mirror's surface began to clear, he sprinted forward and dived once again through the non-existent crystal. The Prosecutor let out an angry whine as Howard's loafers disappeared past the surface. The Defendant turned, smiling at his deed having worked, looking at the new scene playing out in the mirror.

His face dropped. In his panic to come up with a plan to help Howard and unaided by his ditsy mind, he'd failed to conceive of how open his request to the angel had been, nor that what he expected may have been completely wrong. He clasped a hand over his mouth; "Oh god, Howard…I am so sorry."

* * *

This time it had been less of a shock to the senses as he'd fallen threw the mirror and back into the living world, as he knew what to expect. He also wasn't surprised at falling flat on his face after losing his balance. What he hadn't expected though was to find it so difficult to stand up when he hadn't even broken anything.

"Oh, sweetheart! Did you have a bad fall? Whoospy daisy, ey. C'mon, up you come." A sickly sweet voice crooned as Howard felt a slender arm link under his and, gently but firmly, haul him up to his feet.

He suddenly found himself on the arm of a beautiful, twenty-something year old woman in a unique nurse's outfit. Howard wondered if he'd accidentally fallen into paradise. He glanced around, completely taken aback at his surroundings.

When he'd leapt through the mirror, he'd expected to have come out either back in the ally as he had before or in some crack den that Vince had been taken to. Instead of hard ground, he'd landed on a soft (though not very cushioning) red carpet. The walls around him were clean and a comforting shade of beige. Men and women in uniforms similar to the one on the girl who'd helped him up passed him down the corridor he'd landed in. Of course! He was in a hospital! Why hadn't he expected that?

His chest suddenly clenched at the thought that this meant that Vince was somewhere here, fighting for his life in the E.R most probably, dying from a stab or gunshot wound. The panic had more effect on his heart than normal and it began to palpitate painfully.

"Careful now! Calm down!" The nice woman soothed, eyes betraying her fear as she held Howard upright, "Deep breaths. It'll be ok…"

Howard did just that, confused at how sensitive his old ticker had suddenly become. He took a few deep breaths and tried to remain positive until eventually his heartbeat return to normal.

"There we go. All better, see?" The woman grinned, patting Howard on the back.

He glanced down at her chest - to read her name tag! How dare you? "Caroline." He read aloud, bemused by how horse and scratchy his voice was. "Lovely name for a lovely lady."

Caroline giggled, blushing slightly. Howard definitely wasn't expecting that. A slap with a handbag, yes. If she'd had a handbag. "Well ain't you an old charmer."

"Less of the old, if you please."

"Oh! Sorry," She corrected herself, looking as if they were playing some sort of game, "Who am I kiddin'? You don't look a day over fifty."

"I should hope not." Howard frowned, again offended at someone assuming he was so much older than he was. "It's only my thirty-fifth birthday next week."

The playful smile on Caroline's face faltered for a moment. Then it returned, wider and more placating. "Of course! How silly of me. Well how about I lead you to your room and you can tell me what you've got planned for your big day, ok?"

"Sorry. I'd love to, really," She was such a pretty woman. And for the first time in years, Howard sensed he had a genuine chance with her... "But I've gotta be going. I've gotta find…"

At the end of the corridor, a head of raven hair trotted past, disappearing behind the corner before Howard had a chance to check that he wasn't just seeing things. He had seen him though! He was sure of it. He wasn't hallucinating.

"Vince!" He called out, moving out of the girl's grasp and stumbling forward slightly as his legs failed to work as his told them to. They'd always been quite nimble compared to the rest of his bulky body. Now they felt weak and stiff.

In fact, every bit of Howard's flesh felt awkwardly heavy and tender. His joints were rusted and had lost their flexibility. Even his sight and hearing seemed to have been impaired slightly, Nurse Caroline's smile seeming a little blurry and the sound of her words slightly stifled. Howard wondered if this was some sort of side-effect that came to falling between dimensions too often.

Caroline tried to take Howard's arm again but he kept shrugging her off. "Please…I have to follow my friend! He just went around the corner."

"Okay, sweetheart, that's fine. But maybe it's best you walk with this to help you, ok?" Caroline grabbed a metal walking frame that had been stacked up luckily against the wall and placed it in front of Howard.

The Maverick scowled at it; "That's a Zimmer frame! It's for old people!"

"Yes, that's…Well, I know someone as young as you doesn't need to use it but, maybe just for today, ok? Until your legs feel a bit better. And maybe after you've found your friend and had a chit-chat, you could take a bit of a nap for me, yeah?" Caroline reasoned.

Howard narrowed his eyes. He wasn't fond of being spoken to as if he was a child, especially after being so used to talking in the same tone to his younger friend so often. Though, admittedly, his legs were being difficult. And he did feel a bit tired, which was understandable after all he'd been through that day. He placed his hands on the Zimmer frame as if they were the handles of a bicycle and used it to support some of his weight as he walked forward.

"Just buzz if you need me, love." Caroline said as Howard walked off, as fast as he could which wasn't a tremendous speed, given the circumstances.

What a weird hospital this was, Howard mused. Sure it was nice to have a bit of colour and homeliness for a change. The dusty smell in the air, however, reminded him of Lester Corncrake's flat. He continued down the corridor and round the corner where he'd saw Vince walk past. Another corridor stretched out before him, numerous doors line across it, looking more like a hotel than a hospital. Stopping to take a breather, even though he'd only been moving for a minute, Howard moaned at how pathetically drained his lungs were. He turned his head and saw something which chilled him to the bone.

It was a painting. A painting of his grandfather. Why did this hospital have a painting of Grandpa Moon? Sure he'd claimed to be some famous explorer but he was hardly renowned anywhere outside Yorkshire. And what a weird painting it was. Surely he'd have been requested to have posed in his usual tweed, explorer's utility suit. Why had someone painted him in his blue dressing gown whilst on a Zimmer frame?

Howard raised a hand to touch the painting, nearly giving himself a cardiac arrest when Grandpa Moon raised his opposite hand as well. Howard gasped as his fingers stroked over the mirror, his grandfather's fingertips connecting with his at the surface of the painting. Only it wasn't a painting.

He looked down at his hands, holding them up for better clarity. They were grey and withered, thick veins bulking against his thin, worn, wrinkled skin. He looked back up to the painting that was really a mirror and to his grandfather that was really him. His sad, ancient, weather-beaten face, his moustache and thin, barely visible head of hair now grey as a mule, his scared eyes framed with countless crows feet. He clutched the handles of the Zimmer frame tight. Just how far into the future had he gone, he thought to himself as he began to whimper.

"Are you ok, mate?" A familiar voice asked kindly as a hand brushed his forearm. Howard turned around, seeing the only face in the world that had the power to lift his spirits at that horrifying moment.

"Vince! Y-you're ok! I..I thought-" Howard reached out to touch his friend's face. "You look the same…Why haven't you aged as well?"

But Vince stepped back, frowning slightly; "Sorry, mate. Case of mistaken identity, m'afraid."

And sure enough, the kid was right. Howard did have the wrong bloke, he worked out with crushing disappointment as his hand fell back to his side. The boy was, without a doubt, Vince's exact double. Nearly everything about him was identical. The rock-star hair - dyed the same jet black, the ostentatious clothes - maybe slightly less flamboyant but just as eye-catching, the same mockney twang, the same friendly - though not quite as bright, mega-watt grin. But it was the eyes that had been the give-away. The kid's eyes were a dazzling shade of green, not the sapphire brilliance Howard occasionally lost himself in more often then he'd ever admit.

"Who…who are you then?" asked Howard, disillusioned but curious.

"I'm Mickey. But a lot of folks mistake me for my dad - 'is name is Vince."

Howard felt the floor dissolve beneath his feet.

* * *

**There you go, little cliffhanger for you there. Hit me with reviews if you wish.**


	7. Les Tois Noir

**Two parts in one night, well ain't you the lucky ones?**

**Disclaimer: Nothing's chanced in the past hour, still ain't mine.  
**

* * *

"…D-d-dad?" Howard stuttered, beginning to suspect that he'd hit his head harder than he thought after falling through the mirror. "You're Vince's _son_?"

"Yeah, that's me." Mickey chirped proudly; "The one and only Mickey Noir; Papa's Rock Star. How d'you know Dad?"

"I'm…" Howard was struck with yet another realization. If this was Vince's son than surely he'd know full well who he was? Wouldn't Howard be his godfather by rights? The kid clearly had never seen him in his life. "I'm Howard. Howard Moon. Your…father's best friend."

Mickey gasped. His hand flew up to his mouth as he stumbled backwards, tripping in the heels of his silver boots and using the wall to keep himself propped up. Howard noticed that his face was now sinking in with the recognition he'd failed to get at first.

"You…you're Howard? I…oh my sweet lord!" The kid's eyes began to well up and Howard felt even more uncomfortable. "I can't believe that you came 'ere. Ronnie said…oh, but fuck it, you're here, that's all that matters. You did come to see Dad, right?"

Howard nodded, confused yet overwhelmed by Mickey's sudden flabbergasted thrill at him being there. He studied the boy as Mickey led him down the corridor to his father's room. It was still difficult for Howard to grasp the thought of Vince ever _having _a kid. To Howard, the mod would forever be one himself. He looked around, noticing the vast amount of sullen looking elderly people they passed on their way, either on Zimmer frames like Howard or in wheel chairs. Apart from Mickey and the nurses, there didn't seem to be any patients under the age of sixty, by the looks of things.

Then Howard finally worked it out. It wasn't a hospital. "This is an old folks home, isn't it?" He asked Mickey whilst leaning on his Zimmer frame.

The young punk looked at him oddly; "Well yeah, duh. Though, by Jagger, you wouldn't believe how long we put off moving Dad to this place. The girls wanted to keep him at home until the end but it got a bit too much for all of us."

"The girls?" Howard asked as Mickey steered him into one of the rooms at long last.

His question was answered as soon as they entered the private bedroom. At the forefront of the room was a sitting area of a sofa and two arm chairs, a chest of draws decorated with family photographs and a kitchenette pressed into the wall. A curtain separated the rest of the room from view. All Howard could hear from behind it was the occasional beep of a machine. On the sofa sat two young women, roughly the same age as Mickey, though differently styled, drinking tea and talking intently until the two men entered the room.

When they saw Howard they placed their mugs on the coffee table and stood up, both looking quite surprised, though he noticed the taller girl had a dark glint in her eyes as she looked at him. Unlike Mickey, both of the girls had brilliant blue eyes. Howard shuddered, feeling so very out of place.

"Girls, you wouldn't believe who I ran into!" Mickey announced excitedly. He looked up at Howard with eyes of wonder; "Howard, these are my sisters. That's Joany," he pointed to the shorter sister, who appeared to be a stylish gothic girl with cropped dark hair with red tips and a sweet, white-pasted, rounder face than her siblings. "And you've met Ronnie." Mickey then pointed to the taller girl, dressed in pink neon tights and a silver jacket, with the sharpest cheekbones Howard had seen on anyone other than Vince and long, perfectly curled, blonde hair.

"Veronica." the girl corrected coldly, still glaring at Howard, her arms crossed. "I hate being called _Ronnie_."

Mickey rolled his eyes; "Tough luck, Ron, we've been calling you it for twenty six years, get over it. Anyway, look who it is! This, girls, is only Howard fuckin' Moon!"

"Howard!" Joany stepped forward, her mouth agape with wonder as she looked at the much older man. "Y-you mean…Daddy's Howard?" Her voice held a innocent, whimsical tone to it. She suddenly turned on her sister; "You liar! You said he wasn't gonna come!"

Ronnie stepped forward, her face frozen in a nasty scowl; "That's what he told me, you silly bint! More or less anyway."

"Would someone please care to fill in the gaps for me here?" Howard finally found his voice and it was apparently quite pissed off; "Why would I have said such a thing to you?" He asked Vince's eldest daughter.

"How am I supposed to know? Though, to be fair, I knew then you were just a senile old man." Ronnie explained spitefully. "I went looking for you because Dumb and Dumber here pleaded with me to go to you and try and talk you into coming here as soon as Dad fell ill. They thought he'd like to see you one last time, even though I knew the chances of you agreeing to come were slim after all this time. And then when I knocked on your door and your carer introduced me to you, you said you'd never had a best friend called Vince Noir."

Howard froze.

"Ok, so maybe I lied a bit about you saying you didn't 'want' to come." Ronnie confessed, looking back to her siblings slightly; "But why would you want to come to the death bed of someone who you couldn't remember?"

"D…Death bed?" Howard stammered, losing his grip on the Zimmer frame. Joany bounced forward and gently helped him move to one of the chair's to sit down.

Ronnie scoffed; "Oh why don't you just make him a cup of tea as well Joan?"

"That's a good idea. Put the kettle on, Mick, would ya. Milk and no sugar, that's right, ain't it Howard?" smiled Joan, taking Howard aback a little with her spot-on tea knowledge. He nodded. Was she half-shaman? She noticed his stunned look; "When Dad started to lose it, he'd always tell us to make you a cup of tea 'cause he thought you'd be 'coming back from having been jazzercised' soon."

"Unbelievable, isn't it." Ronnie snarled whilst Mickey made the tea and Howard could've sworn he was mumbling the tune to a crimp under his breath; "Our father forgets his own children in his dementia, but he never forgot you. Whereas you didn't even claim to have ever known him when I came to see you."

"Lay off, Ronnie, he obviously remembers now." Mickey said over his shoulder.

"Yeah, he remembers **now**! But where has he been for the past thirty years, ey? Where was our dad's so-called 'soul mate' when he was bringing us up with no one to help him apart from our two druggy uncles!"

"Don't speak about Uncle Bollo and Uncle Naboo like that." Joan winced, crouching down beside Howard and holding his hand. Her fingers were as slender and her skin as soft as her father's.

Howard's breath hitched; "Wh…who's your mother?"

"Which one? Mine, Ron's or Mick's?" Joany laughed lightly. "Doesn't really matter, it's the same answer. We 'ave no idea."

"But…how did-?" Howard's confusion grew. At first he'd reasoned that it made sense for Vince to eventually get someone pregnant considering how he slept around. But he'd assumed that he'd been the one to shake off the responsibility of parenthood.

"That's our old man for you." Mick chuckled lightly as the kettle boiled behind him, "His great reputation for keeping everyone happy. Not just in the bedroom. Our mums got their fill of the famous Vince Noir, had to suffer us all for nine months, then left us on Dad's doorstep when they couldn't be fucked."

"You mean…Vince brought you all up on his own?" Howard couldn't resist a small laugh; "He doesn't even know how to use the oven!"

Ronnie jolted forwards and had to stop herself from slapping Howard in the face; "You shut your mouth, old man! Our dad was the best. 'E had to give up everythin' to raise us all. His old friends, his clubbing, his gigs. 'Kay, so he weren't perfect and a lot of the time we didn't 'ave the same stuff the other kids had - but he always made sure that we were loved and looked after! So don't you DARE slag him off because you obviously didn't know him as well as you thought!

"And at least our dad has family around him in his final moments. Who do you have, Howard? When I came to see you, your carer said you had no one. No wife, no children, no friends. You pushed everyone away from you just like you did to Dad. He was your best friend and you treated him like an annoying burden even though he'd've done anything for you. You're just a sad, bitter, twisted man - and I'm guessing you finally realized that and that's why you're here. Too little, too late, you jazzy freak! You broke my dad's heart and you broke him! So fuck you and FUCK OFF!"

Veronica grew ever more hysterical, her shouting ascending into shrieks and tears shining in her tired, red-rimmed eyes. Finally, Mickey came around and pulled his sister into a tight hug, to comfort her as well as restrain her. Howard watched in agonizing guilt as Ronnie sobbed into her brother's chest, Mickey stroking her hair and shushing her.

He couldn't conceive of ever doing such a thing. Yes, he admitted, he didn't always treat Vince perfectly but then the same couldn't always be said the other way round. However, if Vince needed him - really needed him, then he'd always be there. He would never let him raise three kids all on his own. Vince had clearly managed it though. Howard felt a sting of guilt for having underestimated his friend. The thought of his Vince not wanting to raise his own babies seemed truly preposterous. Even with all his bitchiness; he was still the same man who would sit beside the dying animals in the zoo and tend to them in their final moments. The same man who tended to Howard's wounds whenever he got himself in some stupid, near-lethal mess. The same man who knew exactly what it was like to be given up for adoption and shoved unwanted to and fro from foster home to foster home.

Howard turned to Joany, who also seemed to be holding back tears; "What does she mean? How did I break his heart?"

"He always spoke about you." Joany smiled; "Whenever he'd teach us something he'd always say 'that's what Howard told me'. Like putting the bin bags out properly and doing the stock-take in Uncle Naboo's shop. We moved back there when you moved back to Leeds, y'see. Dad would never live anywhere else. And every night he'd tell us all a bedtime story about the good times and crazy adventures you and 'im used to get up to. Like the time you went to the Arctic and Dad got kidnapped by a polar bear and you saved his life. Or the other time you rescued him from those yetis. He always said you were this amazing 'man of action'."

Howard opened his mouth to speak. That's not exactly what had happened on their adventures at all. _Him _saving _Vince_'s life?? Why did he tell it like that? He remained silent, deathly humbled.

"He said how you rescued him from the foster home and gave him a job at the zoo. That you always looked after him and taught him loads of cool stuff. You were everything to him," Joany continued, ever astounded. Her eyes then glazed over with sadness. "…But, he said he always felt like he could never be good enough for you. You were always trying to get with women or making yourself famous and all Dad could do was watch and try his best to help 'cause it made you happy. Then he started to act out more to try and get your attention but it just pushed you further away. He said he began to 'ate 'imself for how 'e treated you, sometimes being downright nasty when 'e didn't want to, 'e just didn't know what else to do. Then…it got too much. And 'e left. Then, not long after, you left London. And 'e said 'e was never able to find you again. None of us could - until Ronnie did some research just last week. 'E was so excited at the thought of seeing you again…we couldn't bear to tell him you didn't wanna come. But by then it was too late anyway. He never stopped loving you, Mr. Moon."

Howard's withered, older body somehow felt even more frail all of a sudden. His heart was bleeding out at the burning remorse inside him. He couldn't bear to imagine the abandonment and heartbreak Vince must have endured for the past three decades as well as raising three kids single-handedly.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. Twenty five minutes had passed since he'd gone through the mirror. Where had the time gone?

"Please. I wanna…I _need _to see Vince. Now." He said to no one in particular.

Ronnie suddenly sobered up, pulling away from Mick and wiping her eyes; "You ain't seeing him!"

"Veronica." Mickey said wearily.

"No! He has no right to be anywhere near our father after what he did. I know you two wanna see this loser through the same rose-tinted glasses that Dad did - but Howard Moon is the reason we had to listen to him cry himself to sleep every night. He's the reason he could never settle with anyone and be truly happy. He doesn't deserve to see him again."

"Ronnie, for once can you not be so fucking selfish?" Joany pleaded.

"Didn't either of you learn anything from Dad's life story? He had to make EVERYONE happy - and where did it get him, ey? Lumbered with three kids because every woman knew he wouldn't kick up a fuss. His life was all about pleasing others, caring for others, performing for others, never doing anything really just for himself. This is a cruel, selfish world so you have to be cruel and selfish to live in it!"

"That's not how Dad brought us up to be." Joany flared at her sister. She turned to look up at the old man; "C'mon, Howard. E's waited long enough for you already."

Mickey had to hold a struggling Ronnie back as Joany took Howard's fragile hand and lead him around the curtain separating the room. On the other side was a neatly made bed with a purple duvet, a bedside table with two photos in frames propped up, and a life support machine with two IV tubes. In the bed lay a small figure, laid out flat like a china doll, sleeping soundly.

Still holding Howard's hand, Joan stepped forward towards the bed; "Daddy? Look who's here. It's Howard. You always said he'd come back for you, didn't you? I was the only one who believed you. We were right, Daddy. Here he is."

The pretty young woman released his hand and Howard slowly moved forwards. He stared down at the tiny man lying beneath the covers before him. His mind refused to accept it at first. The thought of his best friend aging any older than he already had seemed unthinkable. He always thought Vince was like Peter Pan. Forever young, pure and magical. Howard's world was shattered with the confirmation that such a thought was mere wishful thinking. The duvet covered the most of Vince's slumbering form, except for his arms that lay on top at his sides and his head on the mound of pillows. His face, like the rest of his skin, was even more worn and withered than Howard's. Beneath his closed eyes, free of glitter or eye-liner, were sunken dark circles no doubt forged by many a sleepless nights trying in vein to get three young children to go to sleep and crying to himself. His lips pale and curved downwards. That wasn't right, Vince always smiled in his sleep, unless he was having some terrible nightmare. But he lay perfectly still and silent, with the exception of his laboured breathing. His once perfect, luscious mane of hair had no thinned and receded, a silver head of hair cast across the pillow he lay on. Howard wondered when it was that Vince had been forced to quit buying hair dye.

He stepped closer to the bed and sat himself down in the small chair beside it. Howard continued to watch over his sleeping friend, tears already springing to his eyes whilst Joan fluffed her father's pillow again and made sure he was tucked in. She brushed a strand of hair from his face and bent down to kiss his forehead lovingly. Vince stirred slightly beneath her lips but remained fast asleep.

Joan straightened up; "I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on. I'll leave you to it."

"Can he hear me?" Howard asked, looking worriedly up at the Goth girl.

She smiled forlornly; "I like to think he can. After all these years, he's bound to be able to hear you." Joan began to move back towards the curtain before she paused; "Thank you so much for coming, Howard…and by the way; he did learn how to use the oven."

Howard looked up at her.

She grinned, eyes shining; "I taught him when I was six." Then she left.

Unable to stifle a small laugh, Howard turned back to the elderly form of his best friend, moving his chair forward and taking one of Vince's hands in his own; "Sweet kid you've got there, little man. They're all gorgeous. Even that Ronnie. Definitely know where she gets her spunk from, ey."

He'd hoped that Vince would wake up at the sound of his voice. Or have some life brought into him at Howard's presence. The electro old man remained as limp as before. His hand was ever so cold in Howard's grasp. The older man rubbed it slightly to try and warm him up. He leaned forward and stroked Vince's short fringe back from his face.

"Look at you. 'Daddy', huh? I dunno why I was so surprised," Howard continued to speak, despite Vince's continuing silence. "You always had so much love to give. I'm so proud of you…Must have been fun for those little tykes to be raised primarily in Topshop, ey?…I. I dunno why I wasn't there for you. It's what I can't work out because I would've been. God, Vince, I promised you, didn't I? Me and you all the way. I'd've never have broken that promise. Never…"

His thumbs stroked over the back of Vince's hand. He looked up to see the two pictures on the bedside cabinet. One was a photo of Vince sat on their old back and white sofa, an eight year old blonde girl snuggled against his side, grinning at the camera, whilst his other arm clutched the two smaller giggling children - the girl just a toddler - on his lap. Vince was smiling. A proud, heartfelt smile. But it didn't quite reach his eyes. Not like the smile Howard had seen. Not like the smile he had in the other picture - the photo of him and Howard back at the zoo, their arms around each other, each holding an ice cream in their hands.

Howard smiled, his tears beginning to slip out again; "…You really never stopped waiting for me, did you?"

Vince's head rolled slightly in his deep sleep, facing more towards Howard.

"You kept waiting for me to come back. And I did, little man." His voice began to break, appreciating the irony of his pet name for him. "I came back to find you as soon as I could except…I came here too late. I was too late to save you…"

Suddenly, Howard felt something pressed against his upper thigh. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a scrunched up piece of very old, very stained, paper. Unraveling it, his eyes scanning it briefly, he soon recognized what it was.

The letter Vince had left him. Before any of this had started. Before the damned Arbiter had turned up.

"See, Vince? I never got rid of it." Howard whispered brokenly, still clutching Vince's hand in one of his as he read over the messy scrawl again. "…Just one kiss at the end…Just a kiss…Oh, love." he dropped the letter, allowing it to float slowly to the floor. He squeezed his hand tighter; "It was never 'just a kiss'. Never….Oh God, I dunno what I'm saying. I dunno what I'm feeling. I wish you were awake so you could explain it all to me, 'cause I can't work it out…I'm so scared, Vince. I dunno what to do."

A tiny, almost unaudable groan emitted from Vince's lips as Howard began to sob into his hand.

He then leaned over his sleeping friend, stroking his hair and pressing his cheek to Vince's icy forehead; "…You're so cold, little man. I want you to be warm again. I want you to wake up. I don't care how old we are…you're still so beautiful. So beautiful that it hurts…'cause I never got to tell you. Just like I never got to tell you how worth while you made life seem, Vince Noir. Like I never got to tell you…I love you too. I really, really love you, more than anything in this world…I've always loved you. I always will. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo…"

His words fell into heavy, tearful weeping as he collapsed his head beside Vince's. He held his small, withered frame tight in his arms. He couldn't let it end like this. It wouldn't end like this!

Howard pressed his lips gently against Vince's, tears dropping from his eyelids to the smaller man's face, connecting them for a few precious seconds. When he pulled away, the younger man let out a sharp gasp - and the life support machine's bleeping became erratic, sounding out aloud like a siren.

Before Howard had time to worry, his own chest suddenly felt like it was collapsing in on itself like an imploding mine shaft. He clutched at his heart, his breath rasping painfully for air. The world around him began to blur and become distorted as the agony began to blind him. In the distance, he could just make out the image of a small clock - his time was up. Time was up for both of them. As in forever.

He tried to cling to Vince for as long as he could. He couldn't lose him again, not after he'd just got him back at last. But it was so hard to keep a hold of him as his senses failed him and the last of his strength was sapped clean from his body.

Somewhere in the background, he faintly noticed three figures charge around the corner and surround their father, calling out to him desperately, their cries ringing in Howard's ears. A pair of callous hands gripped his shoulders and hauled him away from Vince, letting him fall back and lye, dying, on the ground beside Vince's bed. His chest grew tighter. His heart was ready to give up before he was. He writhed on the ground, pairs of feet shuffling frantically in his line of vision, not giving a single care for his presence as he lay suffocating, moaning, afraid, alone and unloved.

This was how he was gonna die.

This was how he was dying.

This was how he died.

* * *

Blinding white light disintegrated the world around him once again. Renewed strength, flexibility and clarity flooded his body as it was brought back to reality. He blearily opened his tearful eyes to see his Defendant leaning over him, stroking his brow and whispering soothing words to him.

"Shh, it's ok. It's all over. You're back in the past…or present." He explained gently.

Howard felt like he'd been in the throws of fever, sweat drenching him all over; "I…I died."

"It wasn't real. Or at least, it didn't really happen. Not yet." The Defendant carefully got Howard up into a sitting position, "I'm so sorry. If I'd've thought for one moment…I'm sorry, Howard."

It took a moment for Howard to get his breathing back to a steady pace; "…Y'mean…that's what's gonna happen in the future? For definite?"

"Yes. Well…no, not exactly. It was a prediction, based on what's happened already. The Mirror isn't always right…just most of the time it is." He explained, unhelpfully.

Howard wiped the tears from his cheeks. He wasn't dead. Vince wasn't dead. The loneliness and pain suffered in their decades apart had never happened. But it could do.

That thought sealed Howard's decision.

"I want to change my plea." He said, emptily.

"Mmm? What's that now?" the Defendant asked, distracted from giving Howard's shoulders a brief massage.

Howard batted his hands away and got to his feet. He knew there was no going back. But then he thought of Vince and all the misery the little man had been put through because of him. The strife and heartache yet to come. Howard bit his lip. For once in his life he was going to make a completely unselfish choice. For once in his life he would think of Vince and nothing else, least of all himself.

"Tell your master that I wanna change my plea to Guilty."

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***hides* Please R&R.**


	8. Testify!

**Ello. Here I am again, did ya miss me? *tumbleweed rolls past* Good! Thank you for the reviews, they've been lovely.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.  
**

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"You wanna _what_?" The Defendant had the same face on him that Vince had whenever someone touched his hair without permission. "…You can't be serious."

"I'm completely serious, sir. Tell him that I'm changing my plea. I deserve to be erased." Howard croaked, defeated. "I dunno why I was fooling myself."

"But you can't give up now! Not when you're winning."

"Winning?" Howard frowned. "How am I 'winning'?"

"I heard my master mutter to himself while you were in the Mirror. 'E doesn't think you're such a waste after all. 'E thinks you've got passion. You've got edge!"

"Well…" Howard mused, his confidence given a kick up the backside; "I have been trying to tell that to people for a long time. Do you really think he's warming up to me?"

"Absolutely! And listen, what you saw in the mirror, yeah? It 'asn't 'appened yet. These things can be changed. You can make it up to Vince, make everythin' better - but first you gotta help me help you win this case."

Howard mulled this over. Yes, on second thought, it did seem like more the coward's way out to just admit defeat. He could hear his electro friend's voice replay in his mind from a confrontation not too long ago. _"You're such a coward. You always leave, don't you!"_ Biting his lip, he turned to give his Defendant his best, stern, 'man of action' glance.

"Let's get to it then." He grinned. His second wind had made its return.

"Genius." the Defendant let out a sigh of relief. He lay a gentle hand on Howard's shoulder; "Don't ever scare me by sayin' stupid stuff like that again, alright. I thought I'd lost you for a moment there."

"Oi, you two benders!" the older 'Vince' called from his chair, his feet up on the table, bored; "Are we gonna get on with the rest of this case or 'ave to watch you shag on the floor? I can't stand chewin' gum." He tried to spit out the blueberry Hubba Bubba in his mouth but it wouldn't move past his lips.

The Defendant took Howard's hand and helped pull him to his feet before they went back to sit at the table. When they were both sat, the Arbiter straightened up in his seat.

"Now that the Accused has recovered from his time-shift shock, do you wish to justify that which we witnessed play out in the mirror, Defendant?"

"Well, er…of course, milord." the Defendant said, standing up again. "What we saw, Master, was…well, clearly, a prediction based on the assumption that the Accused would not take away any experience with him from this case. But surely it's clear to see now that he's been a shown a lot about himself that he failed to realize and will no doubt-"

"Objection, Master." the Prosecutor sprung up. "Mowgali 'ere is forgetting the rule that once those summoned are let go, all memory of this has to be wiped clean to protect the mystery of your existence, your 'onour. Only those who were destined by the will of the gods to change their lives around by their own desire to improve themselves are let off, not anyone who 'appens to have some great epiphany in this court."

"What?! What's the point of that?" Howard cried out, indignantly. "If you're able to strike the fear of God into someone that makes them change their lives then surely it's best to let them remember it?"

"Silence, ignorant human." The Arbiter snarled; "Any more speaking out of place and you shall be held, once again, in contempt."

Not wanting to have his face sewn up like a rag doll's again, Howard kept his lips tightly shut. He wasn't even sure for what exact reason he'd spoken up in the first place. The events of the evening thus far had been so traumatic that, indeed, he'd be happy to have someone blank it from his memory forever once it was over. Wouldn't he?

"My client raises a good point though, milord." said the Defendant, "He could just well improve his life and the lives of those around him loads if 'e was allowed to take away with 'im what 'e'd learned about 'imself here tonight. Perhaps, for a special case, we could be allowed to let that rule go just for-"

"Out of the question." the Arbiter snapped.

"But, Sire, please-"

"I said, it's out of the question, minion! The rules of the court cannot be changed for any mere individual case. Least of all one foolish little human. Now, if you have no more to say to justify the vision the Angel of the Future showed to us - Prosecutor?"

The Defendant seemingly had no choice but to sit down. He cast Howard an apologetic look. Howard smiled, taken aback slightly by the strangers seemingly genuine desire to help him. Usually the only person who ever faught, let alone wanted, to help Howard was Vince. Or at least, it used to be.

Across the room, the Prosecutor took the floor; "Cheers, your 'onour. Now, what you just saw, proves everything I 'ave been sayin' up to this point. Because of Howard Moon's passive bitterness and unfair resentment towards his room-mate; Vince Noir is basically doomed to live out the rest of his life heartbroken, his potential to be so much better lost. If Howard Moon had never existed then surely the young man wouldn't have anything to hold him back from being one of the most successful and worldly loved stars of this planet. Not only does the Accused seek to waste his own life but also enjoys holding back the life of the person he so envies and belittles."

Howard clenched his shaking fist as he glared at the Prosecutor. His Defendant shot him a warning glance in case he thought to snap again; _"Just ignore him. He WANTS to get a rise out of you."_ he calmed him via thought-speech.

"My lord, for my next piece of evidence, we won't be needing the Mirror of Fates again." said the Prosecutor.

"Glad to hear that. It needs to recharge anyway." The Arbiter waved his cloaked hand again, summoning what looked like a giant phone-charger from the floor and plugging itself into the back of the mirror. As the power ran through the black line to the mirror, Howard could've sworn that somewhere in the distance, he could hear a faint weeping.

"_What is he charging it with? Electricity?" _Howard mused aloud.

"_No. Anti-Essence." _the Defendant replied helpfully. _"It's what our people use as energy source."_

"_Oh…what's Anti-Essence?" _

"_Well, y'know how you have anti-matter to contrast with matter? The stuff that helped create the Big Bang. What you're meant to see in the static of your television. Anti-Essence is kinda like the spiritual version of that. You have the Essence of living souls passed on that goes back into nature. Anti-Essence is made up the souls of those who lived once but had their existence's erased - so they don't exist but they still do in some form."_

Howard felt a chill run down his spine; _"So…if I get erased…I'm gonna be used as power for your Master?"_

"_No. Not necessarily. M'sure you could come in useful to anyone in Aradia wanting to heat up their toasters."_

The Mirror of Fates was moved, though more glided by no seen force, to the side of the room as it recharged. The floor now more spacious, the Prosecutor strutted on his Chelsea boots to the center of it and looked up to the Arbiter.

"My lord, enough time has been spent on looking souly at the Accused's character faults from his own view. I think it's time we started to let other people have their say. Surely if this worm has left any true impression on this world it will be noted by any of the witnesses."

The Arbiter sat back, hands folded neatly in front of him; "Who do you wish for me to summon to the chamber?"

"My first witness, Master, is Robert Fossil."

Howard groaned aloud. _"Oh god."_

The Arbiter clicked his bony fingers. A circle of blue light shone down from the blackened ceiling to the center of the floor just a meter from where the Prosecutor stood. The body of a short, pudgy, curly haired American fell unceremoniously down to land on the floor, causing the Court of Merit to shake as if an earthquake tremor had occurred.

Bob Fossil pressed himself up, looking around the room like a dear caught in the headlights; "Holy Crap Crackers. Where in the name of Kerry Katona's womb am I?"

"The Court of Merit. Answer simply and you shall be released." the Defendant quickly explained.

"Vincey!" Fossil's chubby face lit up. Then it creased into a frown as he spotted the younger Vince beside Howard; "Two Vincey's? Oh, Bejeezus. Is this heaven? Oh no wait, you're here, Moon. OH! Unless - do I get to kick him in the head whilst you two beauties suck my love-spuds-"

"Stop talking. Please, GOD, stop talking!" The Prosecutor ordered, squirming. "You've been summoned here because you were Howard Moon's employer for ten years and as such one of the main constants of his life. Would you tell us what Howard is to you?"

Fossil spat on the floor before stepping on it with the sole of his shoe. Then he spat on his shoe.

"…Right. Good enough, you've been most helpful." the Prosecutor said flatly.

"Can I hump your hair now?"

"Master. Please. _Now_."

The Arbiter clicked his fingers again and Fossil disappeared in a dejected puff of smoke. Despite his unhelpfulness, Howard was more than happy to see him leave the room. Not half as much as the Prosecutor, it turned out.

"Your next witness, Prosecutor?" asked the Arbiter, sounding almost amused by what had just happened.

"Oh, er, yes. Next witness my lord was the object of the Accused's affections for over a decade. Enid Hyacinth Carmel Gideon."

Another click of fingers. Another beam of electric blue light. Howard's heartbeat began to drum aloud as he recognized the slim, brunette goddess climbing, disorientated, to her feet.

"Mrs. Gideon. Simply answer my question and you are free to go." The Prosecutor asked with more patience than he had to Fossil; "What did Howard Moon mean to you?"

"Dear, my head…" Gideon moaned, rubbing her temples. "Uhm, who? I think you've got the wrong person. I've never heard that name before."

"You don't recognize the man sitting in that chair then?" he asked snidely, waving a hand in Howard's direction.

Howard stood up slightly in his chair so that Mrs. Gideon could get a clear glance at him. Surely she'd remember him. They were soul mates after all. Destiny may be taking it's sweet time bringing them together but it was inevitable all the same.

The woman shrugged, unfazed; "Nope. Though…I might have saw him at my niece's birthday party the other day."

"I'm guessing there were lots of pink balloons at this party, yeah?" The Prosecutor smirked.

"How did you know?" she asked, confused.

Without another word said, the Prosecutor looked to the Arbiter and the Arbiter clicked his fingers. Mrs. Gideon vanished within the second.

"Next witness…"

Another click. Another flash. Another thud.

"What does Howard Moon mean to you?"

"You mean that waste of space over there? What does he mean to me, you ask? He's a pathetic vomit-stain on a fine Persian carpet. He's caused me nothing but misery and disappointment. He should've been drowned at birth like the mongrel that he is. Look how he ended up! A no-good, pointless, sexually repressed, failure!"

Howard rolled his eyes; "Thanks Mum."

_Six Witnesses Later…_

"For the last time, could you answer my question and tell us what Howard Moon means to you?" the Prosecutor asked through gritted teeth.

"Howard's ma special man-muffin. Howard promised to tour the world with me as the Family Funk. But then he left Ol' Gregory at the altar and broke ma heart. How could ya, Howard?! You said you loved me! Didn't you like the boat times, Howard? Wasn't the rape good enough for you?"

"Look, I'm sure this was all very traumatic for you," the Prosecutor reasoned, shielding his eyes with his elbow; "But could you please put your skirt back down?!"

"I've got a mangina!" the sea-transsexual crooned.

"Yes, we're fully aware of that. Master?" the Prosecutor pleaded.

One last cry of "I'm Old Gregg!" rang through the chamber just as the she-male himself disappeared in a puff of smoke. The dazzling light was gone, to everyone's shared relief, even Howard who had been made to suffer the testimonies of nine witnesses so far who made him feel even more like a piece of dirt than he did already.

The Arbiter rapped his fingers on the podium; "After that…mentally-scarring experience, Prosecutor, you are allowed to summon one more witness to the stand."

"That's all I need, milord." his minion replied. "I'd like to summon Bollo the Gorilla."

Howard's attention was raised slightly as his primate flatmate landed with a heavy bump on the courtroom floor.

"Oooh," the ape whined, blinking around the room, "What happen? Why there two of Precious Vince? Do Bollo need to go Specsavers?"

"Bollo, me old son! It's me; Howard!" the maverick said, getting to his feet; "C'mon, you've gotta help me out here."

"What Tom Selleck doing with two Vince's?" Bollo asked to no one in particular.

"Your flatmate has been summoned by the Arbiter of Life, who I believe your shaman master has educated you on, and you've been summoned to give a reference to his character." the Prosecutor explained.

Bollo growled slightly; "Mean Aradian use sweet Vince's body but talk in evil voice. Why should Bollo obey him and slag off Vince's dearest friend?"

"Because my master has the power to wipe out every banana tree in this universe."

"Harold useless ball-bag. He use up all hot water and steal all shampoo that Bollo need for fur to stay soft and shiny like L'Oreal advert. He always getting in trouble and having to be rescued by Naboo or Vince. He embarrassment to shop and scare away customers. Everyone be happier with him gone."

Howard nearly charged towards Bollo in fury, his Defendant leaping up to hold him back; "You traitorous ape! How could you?! Do you have any idea what you've done!? You've probably just helped in getting me erased! Is that what you really want, ey? Do you think that's what your _Precious Vince_ wants?"

The gorilla hung his head; "…Vince be happier with Harold gone. Won't come crying to Bollo so much." He muttered to himself to ease off some of the guilt. But it was loud enough for Howard to hear and stun him to the bone.

"Thank you, Bollo. Good monkey." the Prosecutor said patronizingly.

Bollo grizzled at the condescending comment, glaring up at the Vince-double with pure hatred. He then turned his head back to Howard who was still staring at him with eyes of ultimate betrayal. The ape couldn't help but shuffle his feet in shame.

"…See ya, Howard." He mumbled.

"Bit late for remembering my name now, isn't it." the maverick snapped back.

A click of decomposed fingers and the ape vanished into the ether. Howard ran his hands over his face and hair. Even one of his own flat-mates didn't care if he never existed. He knew Bollo had never thought much of him but he'd always assumed the reason he'd tolerated his presence and helped to save his life on some occasions was down to more than just a favour to Naboo and Vince. He was obviously wrong.

Having made his point clear yet again, the Prosecutor returned to his seat in a whirl of a loose black suit and long ebony hair. Howard did enjoy having to see him suffering through having to chew bubble gum again.

"Defendant. You didn't cross-examine any of the witnesses." the Arbiter queried. "Is there no one you wish to question your client's character on?"

"Yes, my lord. But just one." said the Defendant, rising up.

The Arbiter sighed; "Do I even need to ask who it is?"

"You make us sound so predictable, Master." his minion replied, quite wryly. "But, no, I assume you've worked it out by now."

"It did not take much effort."

His rotten thumb and middle finger were raised above his head. They clicked with a resounding _snap _and the bright blue light shone down into the room again. After another, this time lighter, _"Thud!", _the light dimmed, revealing the figure lying crumpled on the ground.

Howard slowly stood up, one hand leaning on the table for support as he rounded it and tip-toed a little bit closer, just to make sure he wasn't seeing things and setting his hopes up for the millionth time for the millionth fall that night. His heart beat fearfully while his throat turned dry as a bone.

A hand of the body found consciousness and began to prop itself up as the pair of large eyes started to flutter open. They peered, dazed and confused, around the strange room as his legs also came to a shaky life and got to their feet. One hand ruffled the back of his mop of jet-black hair as his eyes came to focus on the tall, badly-dressed Northerner staring at him in awe and disbelief from across the room. His tired face sprang to life with a mega-watt grin.

"…Howard!"

The older man choked back a sob; "You…you're alive!...Wh-what about the psychotic knife-wielding pimp?"

"Oh, we just got on." shrugged the electro boy.

"…You don't just 'get on' with a psychotic knife-wielding pimp!"

"We did, we just clicked, as soon as I gave him my cape and offered to customize the sheaths he keeps his blades in."

"I thought you were dead!" Howard growled, frustrated by the tears forming in his eyes.

Vince let a heartfelt smile stretch across his face. He started to skip forward to embrace his friend - only to be held back by a similar volatile force field to the one that had stopped Howard from escaping the Court earlier. He stumbled backwards.

"What's the deal with that? What's wrong with the old velvet robe, you lunatics?" Vince complained, finally noticing the other figures in the room. He kept shifting his eyes between the Defendant and Prosecutor; "…Ain't I seen you two somewhere before?"

"Vince Noir. You have been summoned to the Court of Merit to give a character reference on your close friend, Howard T.J Moon." the Arbiter boomed, catching the mod's attention; "Your testimony will help me, the Arbiter of Life, to decide whether he is fit to continue living in this universe or whether he should be erased from the time-line for the good of your planet's dominant race."

After taking a few seconds to work out what he'd just been told (or a few minutes to everyone else in the room gifted with more than a single brain cell), Vince turned his eyes back to where Howard was stood, shaking his head and clicking his tongue.

"Can't leave you alone for two seconds, can I?"

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**Reviews are love, as always. Thanks for keeping with me thus far.**


	9. Breaking Point

**Yay, this is now my longest multi-chapter fic so far. And to think it was originally just gonna be a one-shot written whilst drunk. :P Thank you for reviews on the last chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. Surprised?  
**

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Howard watched with fixed apprehension as the Defendant approached where Vince was stood in the witness spot. He knew that the electro boy was his final hope. It killed him that this didn't fill him with much reassurance.

The Defendant approached Vince, hands behind his back; "So. Vince Noir - if that _is _your real name…"

"Yeah. It is." Vince replied, flatly.

"'Kay, fair enough." the lawyer's bad-cop front fell; "Vince, who is the Accused to you?"

"Who?"

"Howard." the Defendant pressed.

Vince nodded, catching on; "Oh right!"

Both Howard and the Prosecutor seemed to share a knowing, fleeting look at that point. They could both tell that it was gonna be a long night.

"Well, 'e's Howard, ain't 'e?" answered Vince. "'E's my best mate."

"Why is he your best mate?"

"Uhm…'e just is." Vince frowned, this interrogation being more difficult than he'd suspected. "We've always been together. Like ten….fifteen years, m'not sure."

"How has Howard always appeared through your eyes?" asked the Defendant.

Vince couldn't resist a small snigger; "Well, e's always been a bit of a freak." When seeing the look on Howard's face, he retreated; "I- I don't mean that in a bad way. I just mean e's never exactly fit in, y'know what I mean. When we were at school 'e was always 'iding away in the library or bunking off with me. It worked coz neither of us fit in much. I mean, people liked me but a lot of them thought I was lame for liking Howard, so I didn't wanna 'ang around with them."

Howard's heart swelled slightly, a warm smile creeping across his weary face.

"'E's never been very well-liked then?" asked the Defendant.

"Not really. I think it's those eyes of 'is. I always say they dart around too much. 'E's too twitchy, it puts people off. And then there's 'is jazz. I mean, who likes jazz? And an obsession with stationary and tweed. Not to mention that 'e's just too anal for 'is own good and can never just unwind and 'ave fun with…well, anyone."

"So that's why everyone else doesn't like to be around him…which, you can't blame, especially in regards to the _jazz_." the Defendant squirmed slightly; "…But why is it you like him them?"

Vince's face switched a bit. He glanced up at Howard as if searching for the answer himself; "I…I dunno. I guess 'cause I know 'e ain't as bad some people think. Yeah, e's a right wet blanket and would be shot point blank by the fashion police. But…'e looked after me. I mean, when we first met, I was bein' shoved between foster 'omes, and didn't know where I belonged. My clothes were all 'orrible 'and-me-downs and my hair was a right disaster. Howard was the only one who wanted to be friends with me. 'E stuck up for me when kids in my year were picking on me…even though most of the time it meant 'im getting beaten up 'imself."

The two life-long friends shared a meaningful smile across the room. Howard had forgotten that, indeed, there had once been a time when he'd tried to stand up for the little man. At first it had been to prove himself to his father who believed Howard getting in more fights might toughen him up a bit. But there had been a satisfying feeling of pride for helping out someone smaller and in need.

The Defendant had to shake himself out as the memories from Vince's head seemed to invade his own. He furrowed his brow, putting on his serious façade again; "So you could say that if it wasn't for Howard then those bullies probably could've killed you? Or driven you to depression?"

"What's 'depression?" asked Vince, innocently.

The Defendant shrugged, his face as blank as stone.

"'Kay, well….yeah, I reckon some of them might 'ave killed me if Howard hadn't 'ave stepped in. I didn't really put up much of a fight back then. Didn't think I 'ad anything to fight for. My parents were dead, Brian 'ad said I couldn't live in the forest anymore, my foster family at the time was sick of me, every kid at school 'ated me…Howard was all I had. And I was all that 'e 'ad. So we just…stuck together. And we've been stickin' together ever since." Vince's voice faded slightly as the words he spoke sunk in.

"Have you always been happy with Howard?" asked the Defendant, who frowned more as the proceedings went on, as if digging out questions inspired by the privilege to look into Vince's own mind as time passed.

Vince bit his lip, looking down at his shoes; "Yeah, 'course."

"The Witness should be reminded that he is under…that he is required to tell the honest truth." the Arbiter warned from above.

The mod shuffled his feet; "In the beginning it was genius, yeah." he smiled, looking up and across to Howard; "We 'ad loads of crazy times. Especially when we were kids. Then we got jobs at the zoo which was even more amazing' until…"

"Until?"

"…Gideon came along." Vince's voice turned hard as granite. "And suddenly it was like Howard became someone else. I mean, he'd always been bumbling and awkward. But I just always thought that was 'cause of that evil family of 'is that 'ated me. Now they were gone and once Gideon came along, I…'e fell in love with her. But no matter what 'e did, she never paid any attention to 'im."

Howard studied his friend, amused by the look of revulsion on his usually sunny face as he spoke about Mrs. Gideon. He'd always thought he'd imagined it before when the younger man would speak her name as if she was last month's fashion accessory.

The Defendant croaked a little; "…Howard gets rejected a lot, doesn't 'e?"

"Yeah," Vince agreed, pulling himself together slightly; "By idiots who don't take the time to appreciate him."

"You don't think that Howard deserves to be treated the way he is?"

"No, 'course not. Yeah, 'e's a bit of an idiot but…sometimes he can be really sweet. And 'e means well. Most of the time, whatever 'e does, 'is heart is in the right place. I believe it is." The younger man smiled across at Howard again.

"If you were in Howard's shoes-"

"Gross." Vince winced.

The Defendant shook his head; "Sorry, metaphorically-"

"Still gross."

"-how would you justify Howard's existence? Look at where he is now and why he's been summoned 'ere today. 'E's been accused of being a complete loser this evening - what would you say to that?"

Vince looked the Defendant in the eyes; "Well. He is a loser."

Howard dropped his head into his palm. Now he knew why he hadn't raised his hopes too high.

"But that ain't his fault. I mean; what other chance 'as 'e 'ad in life?" Vince reasoned; "His old man was a war-crazed, abusive sociopath. His mum was a stuck-up, cold-hearted mega-bitch. His cousins were a trio of attention-seeking twats. Every woman 'e's tried it on with 'as rejected 'im without ever even getting the chance to really know 'im. Now look at him! 'E has the confidence of the cowardly lion after losin' to a fight to a munchkin - and who's fault is that, ey?"

"Hmm…and what about you, Vince?" asked the Defendant, surly. "How have you helped build Howard's self-esteem at all?"

"I…I haven't much. Not lately." Vince confessed, sheepishly; "I mean, it's different for me. I know 'ow to be with people. I can get on with anyone. I can't 'elp that people like me more…and it makes things easier for me. And a lot of the time I flaunt that in Howard's face a lot for a laugh but…yeah, it does make me look a bit of a git."

"…Do you think that Howard deserves to be erased?"

Vince frowned; "'Course not. Look, 'e never meant to be such a failure, ok? 'E tries 'is best, I can vouch for 'im on that. So it goes tits up for 'im a lot but at least 'e keeps on trying. And when I think of 'ow he was brought up, what 'e was made to put through every day with those sick, twisted parents of his and then I look at who 'e is now…I'm proud of 'im."

The two friends eyes met again.

"'Cause 'e's still 'ere." Vince continued, smiling lightly. "After all that; he's still the same dorky, freakish, bookmark-loving Howard Moon that I met back at school. 'E never gave up, not really. And I'll never give up on 'im."

It was a few seconds before Howard felt the wetness on his cheeks. He brushed his fingers over them to wipe the tiny droplets that had fallen from his eyes by the end of Vince's short but tender speech. He blushed, having to duck his head from the view of everyone in the room, especially his electro friend.

The Defendant merely stared at Vince for an awkward moment before walking back to his seat, calling over his shoulder; "No further questions, milord." He sat down beside Howard.

The maverick breathed a sigh of relief; "That went quite well, yeah?"

"You're a bastard."

"Yeah, I really…huh?" Howard stared, baffled at his Defendant.

"I saw inside his head." the Vince-double muttered, almost painfully, "Every thought, every memory, every…and that was without whatever's been added in the past three years. I 'ad to stop from questioning everything I saw because I knew it wouldn't be good for you. But, _him_, on the other hand…" He nodded towards the Prosecutor who was getting to his feet. "He's gonna be able to see everything I saw in your friend's mind and so much more. And 'e's gonna use it completely to 'is advantage. I'm sorry, Howard. But. I'm afraid there's no better way to say it - You're screwed."

Heart pounding, Howard turned his head in time to see the Prosecutor approaching Vince, strutting towards him in the same way a pheasant approaches a potential mate. He noticed Vince's eyes suddenly become transfixed on the Prosecutor's shining gold boots, his jaw hanging open like a kid in a sweet shop.

He gulped. _"C'mon, Vince, please. I need you." _But, sadly, Vince seemed unable to hear his thought-speech. Or maybe he was just too absorbed in the Prosecutor's footwear.

"Wh…where did you get those from?" Vince stuttered, star-struck with awe; "They're amazing.."

"They are, ain't they?" the Prosecutor glowed, showing them off from all sides as if on a cat walk; "I can tell you where I got them if you like…if you answer a few questions for me."

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Vince mumbled, never taking his eyes off the boots.

"Good boy. Now," he began with a smirk; "That Howard Moon; 'e's a bit useless, isn't 'e?"

The mod frowned slightly; "Harvey Moon? Who-?"

"EJACULA-" The Defendant began, jumping to his feet, but was silenced by a wave of the Arbiter's hand.

"Prosecutor. It is forbidden in this court to bribe or hypnotize witnesses. I let you off with the ape because his testimony was honest either way. Remove the shoes." the ghostly judge commanded.

The Prosecutor tutted; "Spoil my fun." He took the boots off his feet and Vince shook himself out of his trance.

"Wh-what 'appened? You didn't make me say anything, did you? You can't use shoes against me like that, that's wicked!" Vince began to flare up.

"Relax, Vince. You didn't say anything." the Prosecutor gave a slimy smile, placing the shoes out of sight behind his desk. "…Though; that must mean there's stuff you don't want to tell us. Is that right?"

"Well, yeah, 'course. I don't even know you, you greasy-haired berk, I don't want you knowing my deepest and darkest secrets." Vince flinched.

"It's a bit late for that I'm afraid…Do you love Howard Moon?"

"What?!" Vince nearly jumped ten-feet into the air.

"Just answer the question. Do you love him? Yes or no."

"Er…well, yeah. Yeah, 'course I do. 'E knows that, we've told each other that before. Like I said, we're best mates." Vince's voice faltered slightly. He ran a hand over the back of his raven locks.

"It's a bit more than that though, isn't it Vince?" the Prosecutor asked slowly.

Howard kept his gaze fixed at Vince, watching his reactions slowly, perplexed as he began to shrink further back into himself, his private panic clear to see. Howard knew that, when backed into a corner, Vince tended to have the same reactions as a wild beast - crawl back as far as you can before lashing out violently. He gripped the table, dreadfully fearing wherever this was heading.

The Defendant reached a hand across and gripped one of Howard's hands. Their private thoughts let him tell Howard that this was what he was afraid of. Whereas all Howard could wonder was what the Prosecutor meant by Vince's feelings being 'more than that'.

Vince hesitated, not having yet answered the question; "Dunno what you're on about…"

"You claim that you and Howard and BFF or whatever. But if you're so close than why is it he pushed you away so much?"

"'E just…'E was scared, that's all." Vince replied wearily.

"Scared?!" laughed the Prosecutor; "Of a little thing like you?"

"No, just…scared of getting close to someone. Scared of what 'is family would think, of what everyone would think, 'cause of the age difference and all that rubbish. 'E was just working things out for 'imself. I know that now."

"Yeah, but you didn't know then, did you?" The Prosecutor sneered, stepping closer; "That's what happened to you, wasn't it. You thought he didn't like you. So you followed him around for over ten years like a sick puppy trying to get his attention. Never worked though did it? You were never enough for him."

"Shut up." Vince hissed, avoiding the Prosecutor's gaze.

"So what did you do, Vincent? After all those years of following, obeying, _risking your life_ for him and getting no where. You began to act out like some rebellious child. Going to clubs and getting off your face on alcopops before copping off with the nearest person to you to get the attention you didn't get from him, like a true mindless slapper, making yourself out as the Prince of Camden. And all you did was just make Howard even worse than what he already was. So, in the end…it's your fault really for why he's here today, isn't it?"

Vince glared at his double; "…What d'you mean?"

"You enjoyed pushing Howard the same way he pushed you, didn't you. You enjoyed winding him up, _humiliating _him, watching him fall even harder than he used to whilst you rose through the ranks. It made you feel good, didn't it?"

"No!" he snapped, the feral-child instinct beginning to react.

"You began to feel like your own person again instead of just Howard Moon's ditsy side-kick. You were Vince Noir; Rock n' Roll star. You were a strong, confident, beloved success. Whereas Howard was the one in the shadows. Howard was the forgotten one. The useless one. Worthless, even. It was the perfect revenge."

Vince's face began to screw itself up, cheeks flushing; "It weren't nothin' like that…" He said through gritted teeth.

"You made him that way, didn't you? And, what's more, you enjoyed it, you little bitch. You kicked him off his pedestal and just kept on kicking-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU GOTHIC NONCE! JUST SHUT UP!" Vince screamed in the Prosecutor's face; "It's not my fucking fault! It's HIS! It's all HIS! HE SCREWS UP EVERY CHANCE HE GETS! HE THROWS BACK EVERYTHING I TRY TO GIVE HIM TO HELP HIM IN MY FACE! HE'S JUST HAPPY TO GIVE UP, RUN AWAY, THE POINTLESS COWARD! HE CAN'T LET GO OF HIS PAST AND HIS FUCKING NEUROS-WHATSIT! HE'S A SAD OLD FREAK AND I HATE HIM! I HATE HIM FOR MAKING ME LOVE HIM ALL THOSE YEARS, WASTING EVERY MOMENT OF MY LIFE, ALL FOR NOTH…Nothing…"

Vince finally broke off when he noticed the satisfied smirk on the Prosecutor's face. And he suddenly realized every word that had slipped savagly out of his mouth. He gasped, stumbling back slightly before looking across the room to his friend.

He looked to find Howard merely staring at him. He didn't look angry, or sad, or even shocked at anything Vince had said. He didn't even look alive. More like a soulless photograph. Vince wished then for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"I…I didn't mean that, I…" he panted, looking to the Prosecutor with huge, pleading eyes; "You! You wound me up, you pointy nosed twit!"

"So what if I did, tramp hair?" the lawyer laughed maliciously; "It doesn't make what you said any less truthful. I can see inside that frozen heart of yours. That freak really 'as broken you, 'asn't he? You're nothing like the person you used to be. Shallow, spiteful, bordering on completely selfish. Still…at least you're better than Howard, ey?"

The Prosecutor finished with another evil laugh that set Vince off again. He tried to lunge for his double only to be held back by the force field again. But the barrier only intensified his rage, causing him to growl and spit like a rabid dog.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?!" Vince grizzled, frightening Howard at this unfamiliar side to his usually laid-back companion; "What gives any of you the right to decide who can live and who can't? We ain't a fucking drafts board! Why should we give a shit if you don't think we're 'worthy' by your pompous standards?!"

Howard stood up; "Vince, seriously, calm down." He warned, fretfully, knowing full well the consequences of speaking out that Vince didn't.

"Calm down?! How can you remain calm, you northern idiot, when this Dementor bugger thinks he has the right to wipe you out whenever he wants and he won't even tell us why!" Vince turned on his heel, looking up defiantly at the Arbiter; "C'mon, Darth Cloaky, why should we all bow down to what you decide?!"

"Because-!" the Arbiter rose to his feet and raised his hand. Before anyone could so much as blink, a rope of white electricity shot out from his deformed claw and lassoed itself around Vince's neck. The mod screamed and fell to his knees, clutching his neck as the rope both asphyxiated and electrocuted him at the same time, making him writhe and shriek in searing agony.

"VINCE!" Howard tried to run forward but couldn't get past the barrier. He pounded his fists against the force field, tears brewing in his eyes as he watched his friend suffer the Arbiter's wrath.

Eventually the Arbiter put his hand down and the electric noose vanished. The judge sat back in his chair; "-_that's _why." he spoke, enigmatic as ever.

Rubbing his neck, Vince let himself drop into a sitting position, his legs tangled beneath him. He hissed at the deepening red mark beneath his fingers, breathing heavily at the strength taken out of him by the shaman's attack.

Howard sighed, glad he wasn't hurt too badly. "…Vince? Are you ok?"

Vince opened his eyes, bigger and wider and sadder than ever, to meet the older man's; "Howard…I'm so sorry. M'so so sorry…" His voice broke off, guilt visibly drowning him.

"The verdict on the Accused shall now be decided." the Arbiter announced, rising to his feet; "The Defendant and Prosecutor shall come with me to summarize all the evidence provided and plead their case without the interference of their vessels or the Accused. Howard Moon, you shall wait here until I have come to my decision. Witness - you are free to go. Which, I advise very much, that you do."

But Vince, persistent as ever, shook his head, standing up; "No. M'staying here."

Howard gave him a grateful smile, even if it was to the back of Vince's hair.

"As you wish." the Arbiter said gravely, before disappearing in a puff of black smoke. The Prosecutor stood up and swept out of the Court, vanishing into the Nothing.

Howard felt a tug on his wrist and turned to see the Defendant's chirpy grin looking up at him.

"So, is all hope lost?" asked the maverick tiredly.

"Only if you want it to be." his lawyer replied. He then reached out a hand to squeeze his arm; "Don't worry, alright. We did a lot better than I first thought and that's always a good sign. Just keep the faith, yeah, and you'll be fine."

Howard nodded; "…Kay. I'll try my best. And, uh…thanks. For believing in me this far."

The Defendant grinned, blue eyes dazzling lovingly up at Howard. He stood up on his tip toes and pecked him quickly on the lips before Howard could think of reacting. Then, with a cheeky wink, the Defendant whirled on his heels and bounced off into the Nothing. Howard stood still, blinking in his leave. Then he felt a long finger poke him in the back.

He turned around to find himself looking once again into the same pair of beautiful blue eyes, only now looking at him with a confused mope; "Who's that berk?" He asked, frostily.

"Uhmm….I dunno his name. But, he just…looks like you used to…" Howard said, feeling strangely trapped, for reasons he couldn't explain.

"What?! I never looked like that!" Vince whined, frowning at the space the Defendant had once occupied; "…I was never that fat. Was I?!"

Howard had to stifle a laugh, in spite of the impending doom oozing its way to his heart. Vince suddenly tugged on his shirt, pulling Howard's attention back to his baby blues.

"Hi, by the way." He smiled wryly.

"Oh…" Howard paused, the situation becoming clear to him; "…Hello."

The two men both grinned stupidly at each other before Vince finally flung himself against Howard, his arms clinging around his neck as if for dear life, nearly knocking the maverick off his feet. Howard, abandoning every pointless 'boundary law' he'd once had, wrapped his arms around his skinny friend's back and drank in the relief of _at last _being reunited with his **real** Vince. In god-knows how long, the Arbiter would reappear and probably convert him into Anti-Essence to charge up his wife's straighteners, if he had a wife. As much as this terrified Howard to his very soul; he couldn't be arsed to do anything more in that moment than just be thankful that he got to hold Vince Noir one last time.

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**Sorry if that was a bit weak. The heat's taken it out of me to write decent fic. Reviews would be great, all the same. **


	10. Promise & Punish

**I'm so glad that this fic seems eager to write itself. Saves me banging my head against the wall with writer's block. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. A bit of this chapter (and the idea for the fic really) is heavily inspired by the Red Dwarf episode "The Inquisitor", I should point out.  
**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine!  
**

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"Hold still now…This is gonna sting a bit," Howard warned gently, holding a soaked pad of cotton wool to Vince's neck, slowly moving it closer to the blistering wound that circled all the way round.

As soon as the antiseptic touched his skin, Vince let out a high-pitched yelp and nearly jumped off the table. Howard had to grab his hand and grip it tightly to keep him still.

"Fuck…" Vince hissed, scrunching his eyes up.

"C'mon, you big baby, it's not that bad." Howard chided, dabbing at the large burn.

"That's rich, seeing as you're the one who wails his head off when he gets a tiny splinter in his 'and. I ain't used to being the one to take the blows - that's usually your job."

"Sadly, I don't think your Sunshine Kid luck extends to this dimension…There, all done," said Howard, tossing the cotton pad away. "See, now ain't you glad I carry around the Pocket First Aid kit with me?"

Vince rolled his eyes; "Yeah yeah, well done. Not exactly a proper First Aid kit though, is it? Are you even supposed to put anti-septic on fifty degree burns?"

"First of all, you haven't got a _fifty _degree burn, if you did your head would've fallen off. Secondly, you were attacked with alien magic so god knows what you were infected with. And thirdly…it's all I've got in the kit. It's big enough for my pocket, you're not exactly gonna get a tiny surgeon in there."

"Dunno. M'pretty sure Naboo could summon one up. Or find us a planet with a load of midget docs and nurses. Gotta be one around somewhere; hell, there's a planet full of people like me!" Vince grinned proudly.

"They don't all look like you, Vince, they just appeared to look like you for this case. I'm not sure what they look like really and frankly I don't wanna know. I don't have a good reputation for getting on with aliens."

"Or anything with five working senses." Vince teased, earning him a playful swat on the arm from Howard.

After wrenching themselves apart from their embrace, Vince had winced as Howard's hand had stroked his neck and he lead Vince to the table that he'd been sat at through most of the night on which they were both now perched.

They had no idea when the Arbiter would return to give the verdict. As much as Howard wanted to have as much time left with Vince as possible, as the minutes dragged on, the waiting became more torterous. The only thing Howard could do to distract himself was try and keep himself absorbed in his banter with Vince. But the younger man's equal amount of worry made the tension a lot thicker.

"How's the neck?" Howard asked, quickly dispelling the creeping silence.

"Kills. But it's getting better. It hurt more when he was actually shocking me…I thought my brain was gonna burst out my 'ead."

"Wouldn't have done much damage then," said Howard cheekily. Vince threw him a dirty look before his eyes dropped back to the table, troubled. Howard couldn't help but look at the bruise on Vince's cheek. The wound that _he'd_ caused. He half-thought to ask if that also hurt but Vince began to speak and Howard decided it was best to leave it;

"It was 'orrible. I mean, I've been electrocuted before. Like that time I tried to straighten my hair whilst in the bath…we know what 'appened there. But this time, it was like that, but worse. Not so much 'cause of the pain but, like, I could hear this _screaming_ as he was hurting me. Like a woman shrieking. And not in the good way."

Howard shook his head after his brain took a short while to deduce what Vince meant by that last sentence. "I think it's to do with the power that they use. I got told that once you get erased, they turn your soul into energy to use."

Vince turned white with horror; "That's disgusting! It's worse than your recycling malarkey."

"Recycling is a beneficial way of life, I'll have you know. For someone who claims to care as much about animals, you don't really give a thought for the environment they live in much, do you."

"I'm all for helping the environment but if we had it your way then we'd be living in houses made out of our own shit, so I'm all for searching for other less disgusting solutions. Anyway, this 'dead people into energy' thing is worse than any of that…it's barbaric."

Howard shrugged, looking off into the Nothing; "Oh well. It's about time I came in useful for something." He sighed, his hope a flicking flame on a used-up wick.

Vince stared at his friend as if truly seeing him for the first time.

"Howard…" he asked slowly, bringing one leg up to clutch to his chest, "What happened to you tonight?"

"What d'you mean?"

"How did you even end up here?"

"I dunno. I know I usually go looking for trouble but I can honestly say that tonight trouble hunted me down itself. I was just sat in my room, reading the…uhm, Global Explorer. Then Mr. Arbiter appeared and suddenly I'm on trial for being a waste of space. Was inevitable really…" Howard's voice trailed off.

"What have they been doing to you?" Vince's asked carefully as if afraid of the answer.

"Oh y'know, the usual Friday night out with friends. Accused me of never having left any impact on this world or meant anything to anyone, sewn my lips together with wire, forced me to relive the worst Christmas of my life-"

"When was that?" Vince interrupted, eager to steer the subject away slightly.

"1986? I was fifteen, you were eleven. When you were living with Sarah," Howard added more details to clear the vague frown on Vince's face. At his old foster mother's name, his eyes lit up again.

"Awh, Sarah. I loved Sarah, she was brilliant." Vince's eyes glazed over at the fond memory; "Been wanting to try and get in touch with her again actually…Wait, that was the Christmas you had with us at the pub? That was your worst Christmas?"

"No, no, I don't mean like that," Howard denied quickly at the look of hurt on his friend's face; "Being with you and Sarah was lovely. I'd never been so happy. It was just…y'know, what with my cousins. And when my dad dragged me home that day…it was dreadful. Those marks on my back didn't fade for weeks. You told everyone I'd fallen asleep at the hammock shop."

Vince smiled lightly; "M'sorry Howard."

"No, it's fine. It stopped them all asking questions in P.E-"

"I mean, I'm sorry you had to go through that. It's all my fault, if I hadn't have run away, I could've stopped them bringing you here. Or at least got help from Naboo….Wait, how did you come and see me outside the Onion if you were here?"

"Through that." Howard nodded towards the Mirror of Fates propped up to the side of the room.

Curious, Vince jumped up and went over to examine it. "Wow…this is beautiful." he gazed, stroking a hand over the crystal surface and taking the time to fluff up his hair in the reflection. Howard worried they were gonna waste precious time with Vince's focus now permanently caught in himself but the electro boy seemed to be looking at something else at the bottom edge of the surface; "There's a little charger sign here like on my mobile. Three out of four bars full and the last one is flashing…"

"It's still on charge apparently. It's why we can't use it to escape if that's what you're thinking," Howard sighed, folding his arms. "I'm guessing they need more of that Anti-Essence stuff. I've got a good feeling where they're gonna get it from."

Vince quickly bounced over to sit closely beside Howard again; "C'mon, remember what your mate said. You can't lose hope yet. They might let you off. I know nothing I said helped much but that Arbiter bloke must have seen enough to know it ain't all your fault you're pretty hopeless."

"I'm pretty hopeless and yet you still think I should keep hoping?"

"Exactly." replied Vince chirpily, missing the oxymoron; "Why are you so eager to just give up? I mean I know you like to run away when the going gets tough but that's usually to save your own skin. Giving up now is just gonna make things worse for you."

"Vince…" Howard closed his eyes; "If you'd seen the things I've seen tonight then you'd understand why it's better if I never existed."

"Don't be daft, Howard. I need you, you know I do, I don't work right without you." Vince said earnestly.

"I didn't just see into the past and the present. I saw into the future. I saw what me and you are headed for. I saw…"

Vince blinked; "What did you see Howard? I wanna know. Tell me."

Howard bit down on his bottom lip. He wondered briefly whether there was some paradox potential law that meant him telling Vince his future could destroy the universe. But given the fact he was most likely due to be killed soon enough, he couldn't really give a toss for the laws of space and time.

"Oh god…" Vince's face fell as Howard hesitated; "It was horrible, wasn't it? I end up alone, don't I? I die young 'cause of some drug overdose? Fuck - my hair falls out, doesn't it!?"

"No, Vince, trust me. I'm the one who got the sad ending, as always. You don't die young, you keep your hair and…you don't die alone," Howard soothed; "Far from it. You…have three Little Vinces with you at the time."

Vince's eyebrows shot up behind his fringe; "They sound evil!"

"_Children_. Vince. You have three children." Howard explained impatiently. His face then softened; "Three beautiful children."

The electro boy's jaw dropped; "…Th…three kids? 'Ow could I 'ave got three kids?"

"Well, you remember what the teachers taught you about the birds and the bees?"

"I don't mean that! And yeah, I do…well enough." Vince ran a hand through his ebony hair. "I mean…how could I 'ave brought up three kids? Was I married?"

Howard shook his head; "No. You…raised them all by yourself."

"By myself?! Well…where were you? Why didn't you help me?!" Vince's voice was rising in pitch, making him sound more scared and feminine.

Howard stared down at his shoes, ashamed; "I dunno. I dunno why I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry…"

"Don't be sorry, you spazz, it hasn't happened yet." Vince forced a chuckle, rubbing Howard's arm. He then pulled his hand back and frowned again. "…Three kids…where they triplets?!"

"No. All by different women. They didn't know who their mums were."

"You spoke to them?" Vince asked, perplexed.

"Pretty much. No doubt they were definitely your kids." Howard smiled; "All of 'em - proper little brats."

"Oi! Those are my little'ens you're talking about!" Vince shot back playfully at Howard's harmless jibe.

"They haven't even been born yet."

"No, not…yet." Vince's brow furrowed, his hand once again reaching up to toy with his hair. Howard watched him, being able to read Vince like a book, he always knew that whenever the mod was twitchy or fidgety, it meant he was hiding something. Before Howard could ask about this, Vince turned to him, "How…far into the future did you go?"

"Around thirty years I think." Howard replied, replaying the scene in his head.

"And how old was my eldest kid?"

Howard thought back harder; "Er, I think Ronnie was about late twenties. Maybe older…"

"R-Ronnie?" Vince stammered, nearly slipping off the table; "My…son?"

"No, short for Veronica. She was quite boisterous though from what I saw of her."

"A girl…Ha, I kinda wanted a girl…_Veronica_? Veronica Noir. That's perfect, ain't it." Vince whispered, seemingly having wondered off into his own little world. "And 'Ronnie', like Ronnie Wood. That's just genius! What was she like? Did she look like me?"

"Yeah, yeah, she was stunning. And she had your eyes."

"Did she 'ave good dress sense?" Vince asked as if it was the sixty four thousand euro question.

"No, she looked like a proper electro slapper."

Vince beamed; "Awh! That's my girl. Oh fuck…my girl. My _daughter_." The panicking Camden prince clutched his hair with both hands, looking like he was on the verge of hyperventilating. "M-my daughter…"

Howard held Vince's wrists away from his face; "Vince, Vince, calm down. Breathe normally, c'mon, that's it…" he waited until the little man had calmed slightly; "Now what are you not telling me? Why're you so interested in a kid that you might not even have?"

"'Cause I _am _gonna have her, Howard. Maybe not the other two. But…she must the one." Vince's voice faded as his eyes looked away.

"What one?" Howard gently released Vince's wrists but Vince just grabbed at Howard's hands instead.

He took a deep breath, staring down at Howard's hands the whole time; "Please don't hate me, Howard. I…I didn't think that you were gonna come back after you left to go off with Jurgen. I was so lost. I didn't know what to do with myself. Most days I just stayed in the flat, acting like a complete misery guts, feeling sorry for myself. But then, one night, Leroy dragged me out to this club that he said would make me feel better. And it did a bit, it was a pretty cool gaff….Then I met this woman, Rachelle, who was a model for Cheekbone. And…we got drunk and…went back to her place…"

"…And?"

"Oh, c'mon Howard, I know you're a prude but you don't need me to spell out what happened next! We had sex, you slow-poke."

Howard merely gawped; "Oh…"

This was hardly a startling revelation to Howard. He'd always assumed that most nights Vince went out he ended up scoring with some lucky woman. Or man.

"It didn't mean anything, Howard, I swear. It was just a drunken fumble on her sofa. She kicked me out her flat the next morning, I didn't think I was gonna see her again, which I was kinda glad about - she's a bit of a cow, really. I swear she stole ten euros off of me. Anyway, she somehow got my number and texted me a couple of days ago saying 'I'm late'. I thought she was talking about the money, which was a bit strange 'cause I didn't know thieves had a time limit until they gave what they've knicked back. But…then I worked it out."

All the pieces clicked together in Howard's mind as well. He had to gather his breath, feeling as if he'd been hit in the chest with a sandbag; "Oh, Vince…how could you be so careless? Don't you use protection?"

Vince glared at him, insulted; "Yes, Howard, I know you like to think of me as a slag but I'm not and I'm definitely not _that _much of an idiot. And if you weren't so frigid you'd know enough about condoms to know that they **can **split!"

"Alright, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just assumed…this is all just a bit hard to take in right now, on top of everything else."

"How d'you think I feel? My whole bachelor life is over. M'gonna have to settle down, get a proper job. And slippers…oh god, I'm gonna turn into you." Vince realized, appalled, getting to his feet and beginning to pace with fright.

Howard chose to ignore this comment; "You've known about this for the past two days? God, Vince, why didn't you say anything?"

"How could I? I thought you hated me before, the last thing I expected was you to be supportive about this. That's why I've been meaning to track down Sarah. You're meant to go to your mum for support when these things happen and she was the closest I had. But, until now, it didn't feel…real. Maybe I was expecting Rachelle to get rid of it. But…you said she has it. _Her_. Veronica. And she's given to me…a proper living person…A little baby that I've gotta look after…"

Seeing that his friend was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, Howard hopped off the table and put a supportive arm around Vince's shaking frame; "Hey, listen. I know this is all a shock but you've got nothing to worry about. 'Kay, I saw the future. You managed to bring her and her brother and sister up just fine on your own."

"But I don't wanna be on my own, Howard!" Vince stared up at Howard with watery eyes too innocent and child-like to belong to that of a dad-to-be. "M'not gonna be able to do this…"

"Shhh, c'mon, it's okay. You're not gonna be alone this time, I promise." Howard held Vince by his shoulders; "My Defendant said that the future could be changed. Well, we _will _change it. I'm gonna be there for you, every step of the way, you hear? I ain't gonna abandon you, I promise."

Vince's wobbling lips curved upwards; "…Me and you all the way, yeah Howard?"

"That's right, little man. All the way. C'mere…" Howard pulled his crumbling friend into a bone-crushing hug. Vince lost his final grip of control and let himself cry softly into Howard's chest whilst the older man stroked his hair and back. Howard placed a kiss to the side of his strawberry-scented hair out of sheer instinct, nuzzling his blushing cheek against it. "You scared?" He whispered.

"Terrified." Vince sniffed, clinging to Howard like a limpet. "But…m'kinda excited. M'gonna be a _Dad_, Howard!…Me?! I couldn't even look after the school hamster for a week."

"Vince, for the last time, Nibbles was three years old! He just died of old age, nothing you did wrong. And anyway, you underestimate yourself. You're gonna be a great dad - Ronnie told me you were, herself."

"Did she?!" Vince looked up, glowing.

"Yes! Just before calling me a jazzy freak, I think."

"She sounds perfect." Vince sighed, snuggling contently against Howard. The maverick rolled his eyes, just continuing to rub Vince's back. The electro boy pulled back a little to look up at Howard; "You're really gonna be there for me…for us?"

"Promised you, didn't I?" Howard smiled, stroking Vince's fringe from over his eyes.

"You…you're amazing, Howard. None of my other so-called friends would do that. Not even the nice ones. But you…you're something else." Vince's hand stroked across his cheek; "You really are my knight in tweed armour."

Howard's face flushed bright scarlet; "Well…Dunno about that…"

"You are. I meant everything I said in that letter, Howard. I…You mean everything to me. That's why you can't get erased tonight, you just can't!"

"Vince, if I get erased, chances are you were never in the situation to conceive Ronnie in the first place."

"That's just it. I _want _to be a Dad, Howard. I wanna meet my little girl. But only if you're there with me." Vince cradled Howard's head in his hands lovingly; "I want you to help me bring her up. I want her to have the family unit I didn't have. I want you to teach her all the clever things you know that I don't, everything except jazz and the other boring stuff, of course. I want her to know you as well. Know you and love you as much as I…"

Vince's words broke off as Howard's eyebrows narrowed back at him. They stared into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity, Vince's hands still holding Howard's cheeks whilst Howard remained holding Vince. For the first time since he'd arrived there that night, the Court of Merit suddenly felt stiflingly hot to Howard. He watched Vince lick his lips, his throat probably as dry as his was. Had they moved closer towards his own?

The deafening toll of an unseen bell rang aloud through the Court and made the two men spring apart from each other. The Defendant, the Prosecutor and the Arbiter appeared before them, lined up with the Arbiter stood in the middle, holding a silver crossbow in his hands. Howard looked to the grave face of the Defendant and put two and two together, fearing the worst.

"I have examined the evidence and testimonies given at this trial and have reached my decision." the Arbiter boomed; "You were granted the greatest gift of the gods. The gift of life. Yet you have done nothing to deserve this divine privilege. You have lived without making an effort to break through your own misfortunes and hardships, instead letting them bind you to your pathetic half-existence. You are not worthy to have a place in this reality."

Vince let out a whimper, his hand grabbing instinctively for Howard's. His heart deflating rapidly, Howard had expected that this was coming, but it didn't make it any easier to accept as his fate. He was all out of ideas. All he could do was squeeze Vince's hand back.

The Arbiter raised one cloaked, grotesque hand; "The punishment for this crime is for one to be annulled from the time-line and their bodies obliterated. This, Convicted Ones, is your sentence that I give you."

He clicked his fingers.

Vince gasped and fell to his knees, his arms wrapping tightly around himself as a shell of red and orange energy swarmed over him, cocooning him in the Arbiter's magic. Howard screamed his friend's name and tried to reach for him. Before he could put his hand to the force field, the Arbiter clicked his fingers again and Howard, also, dropped to his knees, hugging himself as the magic enveloped him.

He was holding himself to fend off the icy draft that had appeared all around him. He felt sickeningly thin, as if he'd just thrown up a whole Christmas dinner. He tried to turn his head to look at Vince but the power around him was too intense for him to move a muscle. He thought he could feel his blood being drained from his veins. His chest felt iron tight but with the same pain that he'd felt in the care home. His lungs seemed empty and ready to shrivel like prunes. His head pounded as if his skull was about to collapse in on his brain.

Two more clicks of the Arbiter's fingers and the magic vanished. Both Howard and Vince fell forwards onto their hands, eagerly catching their breaths after the feeling of suffocation. Howard felt somewhat normal again, shrugging off the tingling sensation all over his skin.

"The first part of the sentence is complete." the Arbiter explained callously; "_**Both**_ of you have had your pointless existences erased."

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**Dum, dum, dum! Thanks for reading. Please review xx**


	11. Light Up

**Here's some more for you. Glad to know so many people are liking this story. It's amazing the ideas that can come to you when drunk.**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine.  
**

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When Howard's lungs finally began working properly again, he raised his head to meet the hidden eyes of the Arbiter; "…Both of us? How the hell can you do that?! This was MY trial!"

"All those who I summon to the Court of Merit are liable to be judged." the dark priest explained.

It took Vince a little bit longer to restore his strength after the strange spell that had been cast over them. He sat back, his head in a daze and Howard shuffled over to put up a hand to his shoulder for support. The younger man's face was pale and drenched in sweat, the same way Howard had seen it before whenever Vince woke up from some out-of-character horrific nightmare and needed soothing from his best friend.

Howard kept rubbing Vince's shoulders as Vince blinked his bleary eyes open and gave Howard a sleepy smile of thanks before his face creased into a frown; "…What was that?" He half-whispered.

"_That _was the magic of the goddess of time." the Arbiter spoke haughtily.

"Right, well tell her 'congrats' and everything, but if she wants to give me a 'ell of a 'eadache again, all she needs to do is put on some of Howard's jazz records." Vince retorted.

Howard resisted the urge to come at Vince like a buzzard and glared up at the judge; "What did you do to us?"

"I erased you both from the time line. I unraveled every action you performed, every memory you implanted, every footprint you marked in this Universe. You are now merely nothing but refuge ready to be disintegrated and your lost spirits harvested. Which, I shall soon, deal with."

An icy chill passed over the hapless duo as they shared their almost trademark look of horror. Howard couldn't understand it. He still felt as real as ever. He could remember everything about his life in flawless detail. Surely it couldn't just all be wiped clean like a perfectly cleansed plate in the dishwasher.

Then another thought struck his head from something the Arbiter had said earlier; "Wait a minute! You judged _everyone _who came in here tonight. Are you saying that Fossil, Old Gregg, Bollo and the others have lived more worthwhile lives than either of us?"

"The imbecile and the merman are both mentally deranged creatures. The gorilla is a simple-minded beast. They've made their own lives worth while by meeting their own low standards." proclaimed the Arbiter with undeniable logic. "Whereas you, Howard TJ Moon, have the intelligence and passion to be so much more, yet you will never be able to harness these gifts by fault of your own desire to shroud yourself in bitterness."

"What about me?" Vince spoke up defiantly.

Howard shot him a 'look'; "Thanks for your concern."

"Well I'm sorry Howard, but it's true," Vince fired back, his eyes ablaze with rebellion; "I can see why you'd be up for having your neck on the block. I didn't want you to be erased but, c'mon, it was pretty much likely. But what 'ave _I_ done?" the mod turned back to look at the Arbiter; "How can you say I've wasted my life?"

"Because you said so yourself." the Arbiter replied.

Vince's eyes widened like blue round saucers. "I..I never…"

"You said you'd wasted your life trying to get your friend's attentions, doing as much for him as possible and getting no where. When those words left your lips, Vince Noir, you more or less pleaded guilty to the same crime of which Howard Moon stands accused. And after reviewing your case, I see no reason as to why to argue your plea."

"Why not?" It was Howard who dared to speak this time; "You couldn't find anyone more 'alive' than Vince. Everyone in London knows who he is. They're all happy just to be with him."

"He is merely 'living' for other people and not for himself. For an existence to be valid, there has to be at least _some _balance." the Arbiter argued in a calm voice that creeped both boys out; "Vince Noir is no more a living entity than he is a drug. A doll for his kind to amuse themselves with before becoming bored where by the next morning they don't think of his name once."

Howard looked to his friend, expecting to see more lashing out, only to be met with the sight of Vince sat, leaning on his wrists, staring blankly at the ground. He was listening to every word the Arbiter spoke about him and not arguing once.

"But he's more than that, he's…" A brainwave nearly drowned Howard; "He's got a daughter! I mean, he's _gonna _have a daughter. If you wipe him out then you wipe her out too!"

Vince's head snapped up, the reminder of his unborn child reviving him. He looked from Howard to the Arbiter hopefully. They both stared up at the Aradian priest, wondering what his next move was going to be. The waiting was made even more tense by not being able to see his face. Howard looked behind him to his Defendant. The younger-Vince-look-alike was frowning at his boots, his lips silently moving as if working out a difficult sum in his head. Howard inwardly wished that he would meet his eyes to give him at least some reassurance.

The Arbiter raised the crossbow that was cradled in his arms; "The process has already been completed. One insignificant human life lost shall not make a difference to the Divine Plan."

"Don't you **dare **call my little girl an Insy Niffy Can! Whatever that means in your alien gibberish." Vince spat. Howard didn't see the point of correcting and teaching him. What was knowledge going to be of use to two pieces of alien electricity working light bulbs and magic mirrors?

_The Mirror_! Howard's eyes scanned over the Mirror of Fates charging against the wall of the room. He bit the inside of his mouth. He didn't have a clue how to work it but if only it was easy enough to just leap through and escape as they'd done before. He stared at his Defendant who was still in deep thought, probably mulling over the decision of whether to wear a red cowboy hat or a black one. Howard focused. _"If only we could get through the mirror…"_

The Defendant looked up and met Howard's gaze. Howard gave him one last pleading look before looking back up to the Arbiter who was loading his crossbow with a single glowing white-blue arrow. And the arrow was crying. Howard felt Vince scramble closer to him.

"With this arrow I shall destroy what remains of your physical forms from this reality." the Arbiter explained dryly, not giving a toss for the quivering, mewling men at his feet. "With your bodies gone, your souls shall be instantly converted into Anti-Essence for me to harness just as I did to the soul who is now this arrow. The use you failed to be to in life, you shall now be to my people. Prosecutor, as always it is your duty to deliver the blow for winning your case."

The Arbiter turned to hand the crossbow over to the smirking Prosecutor, who looked like a kid having been handed his father's air rifle and given two ducks for target practice.

Howard gulped, not taking his eyes off the crossbow; "Uh…Vince?"

"Yes, Howard?" the younger man piped.

"Y'know how whenever we're about to die on some life-threatening adventure, you always reveal one of your accessories or hair products to save us both? Well…I think now would be a good time to get out your Nicky Clarks or what have you. No rush or anything."

The Prosecutor stepped forward.

"Sorry." Vince mumbled, shuffling back with Howard; "Left 'em at Leroy's."

"Did you now? Oh well, never mind." Howard said shakily.

The crossbow was raised and aimed down at Vince's chest.

"Howard…?" he croaked.

"Yes, little man?"

"….Nothin'."

Howard stared at him, perplexed. Vince was smiling, tears watering in his eyes.

"Just wanted to hear you call me that one last time."

Trust Vince Noir to be able to smile in the face of oblivion. Howard choked back a sob and was about to lean over to embrace Vince before his Defendant sprung forward on his silver heels.

"Wait!" He called, touching the Prosecutor on the arm.

He threw him a disgusted look; "What d'you want?!"

The Defendant's eyes lit up.

"…D'you like Gary Numan?"

Howard blinked, a bolt of nostalgia paralyzing him.

The Prosecutor's face switched, almost defensively; "Er…yeah. Yeah, I do. A lot."

"What is the meaning of this, Defendant?" the Arbiter sternly asked.

But the Defendant didn't seem to be listening. He was gazing, star-struck, into the Prosecutor's eyes as if he'd fallen from heaven. He raised a hand to stroke the bony, porcelain cheek gently. The Prosecutor's rock hard visage began to falter.

Howard and Vince exchanged bewildered glances.

"You've got such smooth skin." The Defendant charmed softly.

"Uhm…thanks. Imperial Lather…" stammered the Prosecutor, taken off guard as the Defendant moved his hand to the back of his black mane.

He smiled dizzily, his eyes heavy lidded; "Mmmm. And your hair is genius. Root booster?"

"Y-yeah…" the Prosecutor smiled warmly, the first time Howard had seen him do so. "Yours is pretty good too. Not as good as mine, obviously."

"Of course not." the Defendant giggled like a swooning school girl. "I'm no where near as gorgeous as you are."

"…You're not so bad. Your boots are really cool. And…you're younger than me. That's always a bonus…"

Vince elbowed Howard lightly and whispered; "Isn't he supposed to be killing us?"

Howard didn't know what to answer. Even the Arbiter seemed to be hypnotized by the two almost identical figures in front of them engaging in some kind of slow, flirtatious dance. The Defendant somehow managed to turn the Prosecutor to look him in the eyes, his hands raising up the black suit and caressing his slender frame. The Prosecutor let one hand fall from his crossbow to cup the Defendant's face, adoring his own, slightly chubbier, youthful face looking back at him with such besotted lust.

"You…you really are beautiful…" the Prosecutor said breathlessly. "Most beautiful person in the world…"

The Defendant grinned; "No. You are."

"….Yeah, I am. But you're a close second." the Prosecutor held his partner's chin with his thumb and forefinger; "C'mere…"

And that was when Howard witnessed the most bizarre sight of his life, which was something to talk about considering the world he lived in would make Alice's Wonderland seem docile. The Prosecutor pulled the Defendant to him and crushed their lips together in a needy, messy kiss. The Defendant fell into it, moving his hands up his partner's chest as he moved in closer. Howard looked to Vince who, he was slightly worried to notice, had an intrigued smile creeping along his face. Howard rolled his eyes. As sick as it was, it all made perfect sense. The Arbiter also remained quiet and Howard wondered if he was also getting off on the sight of the two Vince's making out in the middle of the court room.

The kiss continued in a flail of lips, tongues and fingers on skin. Flushed, the pair pulled back from each other slightly, breathing heavily as they nuzzled their noses together, both pairs of blue eyes lost in each other.

Howard narrowed his eyes as he suddenly heard the Defendant whisper two words to his partner.

"I'm sorry."

The Prosecutor merely frowned slightly, confused but still beaming dopily. Then came the resounding _'SNAP!'_ and the Prosecutor winced, his face shattering in a heartbeat, looking back at the Defendant with eyes of fear and betrayal.

Both Vince and Howard gasped, looking at the tiny amount of space between the two lawyers. The Prosecutor's chest had been pierced by the arrow. The arrow with their names on it.

The Prosecutor's face twisted into a scowl; "You…_electro whore_!"

"Cheers." the Defendant chirped, cheerful as ever. Then, in one lighting-quick motion, he shoved the Prosecutor back with such force that he flew back and crashed against the Mirror of Fates, just as his body disintegrated at the bright white-blue light tearing him to shreds, his agonizing screams shrinking into silence.

Howard and Vince jumped to their feet. They watched with a mix of awe and confusion as the light from the Prosecutor's body was absorbed into the mirror's surface. When finished, the Mirror of Fates began to glow as it had before when it was…_fully charged! _Howard's heart pounded with excitement.

The Defendant turned to the both of them; "QUICKLY! GO!"

"But-"

"DON'T ASK QUESTIONS, YOU MUPPETS, JUST GO! NOW!" He ordered, unaware that the Arbiter was walking up behind him.

Before Howard could say another word, his Vince tugged on his hand; "Howard, c'mon!" He pulled the maverick with him and soon they were both sprinting towards the mirror.

The Arbiter grabbed the Defendant by the neck and wrenched him around to face him.

"INFIDEL!" He growled, raising the small man off his feet.

When reaching the mirror, Howard turned around to see his Defendant struggling against his master's choking grasp. Freedom stood less than a meter behind him and yet he couldn't move his feet.

The Defendant looked over his shoulder to him; "_GO, HOWARD!_"

He couldn't though. He couldn't just leave Vince to…no. No, not Vince. Vince was with him. But he cared about his new friend as well. He'd reminded him of the sweet, innocent kid he'd befriended a lifetime ago and that's what had helped Howard get through this nerve-wracking night. He'd tried so hard to save him. And now he was willing to die to help him escape.

And Howard didn't even know his name.

"Howard, c'mon! We've gotta go!" Vince kept on pulling at his arm, frustrated.

The Arbiter raised his free hand and silently summoned another arrow of light from the ether. Only this arrow was larger, more like a spear.

Before Howard could move a muscle, the Arbiter had impaled it through the Defendant's chest.

"NO!" Howard screamed, wrestling against Vince's meek but desperate hold.

He didn't swear. He didn't scream. All that came from the Defendant's lips was a sharp gasp, followed by a tiny squeak as if from a wounded mouse.

Howard faltered. There was nothing he could do. Even if he wanted to, there was nothing he could do. Loathing his own uselessness, he turned around, grabbing Vince by the hand and jumping into the mirror for the third and final time that night.

They both fell through the void and landed, stumbling, onto the same dark, damp street outside the Velvet Onion, which was now closed for god knows what reason.

Looking behind him, Howard noticed that the circle of white light was still glowing. The portal was still open. And that meant that they weren't home free just yet.

Keeping an iron grip on Vince's hand, Howard met his friend's rabbit-caught-in-headlights stare.

"RUN!" He cried.

And they did just that.

* * *

Back in the Court of Merit, the Defendant could feel his body being ripped apart by the power of his master's weapon. He knew that in any moment his whole physical form would be turned to mere atoms in the wind. He knew this and he didn't care.

Howard was safe. For now. And that was all that mattered.

The Arbiter tightened his clawed grip on his servants neck; "After all your years of loyal service, you choose to betray me like this?!"

"…Don't be sad, Master." the Defendant forced a tired smile; "We had some good times. Remember the time we ate that Xooberonian fish platter?"

"Silence! You let me down, slave. Falling for some measly pathetic human case. And then you murder my favourite minion in cold blood!"

The Defendant choked slightly, his strength waning; "'E 'ad it comin'. Smug little prick. 'E was always a bad winner and loser, it got on my wick. At last we both got 'ave a vessel that was so ditsy and in love with 'imself that I 'ad the perfect plan set out."

"Ah, yes, your plan was very clever and thought-out." the Arbiter sneered; "With a few minor flaws. For instance, look at your current situation."

"…Yeah, well. Like I said, not the smartest vessel I've 'ad….But, you know I'm right, Lord. You're sentencing these two for the wrong reasons! You know they don't…" the Defendant's words trailed off into shuddering retches as the magic burned through his body.

The Arbiter pulled his dying servant slightly closer; "Shhh, now….Talking time is over. Accept your punishment for murdering your partner and letting those two fools escape."

"You…could've stopped them…"

"Indeed, I could've done. But…you know how I **love **a good chase. And it's been such a long time since I've had one. So for that, I thank you, Traitor. And my reward is that, in your death, you're going to help me exterminate them both." the Arbiter finished with a deadly snigger.

His laugh soon faded out of reach for the Defendant's senses, as did everything else in the room as his body finally shattered - and his spirit fell into the hands of his master.

The hunt had begun.

* * *

**;) Reviews would be great, kthnxbai. **


	12. The Chase

**Not entirely fond of his chapter. I'm not good with fast-paced scenes and a lot of this is dialogue. Bit angsty as well for the most part with a hint of fluff for you all. Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. One day, maybe.  
**

* * *

They weren't sure were they running to. And they didn't much care.

All they knew was that they had to get as far away from the portal as possible. They tore through the bleak, black streets of the slumbering city, neither losing grip on the other's hand, running faster than they'd ever ran before. The rush of having escaped their 'sentence' gave them their vital adrenaline as the fear of being caught kept them from slowing down, even as the chilled wind whipped their faces and the drizzling rain stung their eyes.

They sprinted until they found their first obstacle in one of the busier main streets, the closing late-night clubs littering out the last of their drunken rabble and mini cabs and night buses streaming past. Howard and Vince weaved in and out of the intoxicated crowds of people, Vince taking a nock on the shoulder from a group of teenagers bustling past and letting out an irritated cry that made Howard pull him along harder, running across the road and ignoring the car horns and hollers of taxi drivers as they narrowly missed the pair.

With their hearts in their mouths and their lungs set to bursting point, they reached the pavement and managed to stumble down one of the back roads.

"Howard!" Vince rasped, tugging on the older man's hand.

But Howard just kept on running. Despite in living in London since he was a teenager, he wasn't as known to his surroundings as his friend was, and each of the streets all looked the same to him in the dark of the night. He just told himself that they had to keep moving until he found somewhere vaguely familiar.

He failed to realize that Vince had already found such a place; "Howard, would you just _stop_! Look!"

After another wrenching pull on his hand, Howard finally turned around to see Vince pointing at the terrace of houses to their right, his finger aimed at the purple painted house at the end.

"Leroy's! C'mon!" Vince bolted off, letting go of Howard's hand, not even waiting for the older man to respond.

Howard jogged along behind him, his breathing becoming erratic as the exercise caught up with him; "Vince…you said he's on…holiday!"

Vince wasn't listening. Once he reached the front door, he got down onto his knees, not giving a thought to dirtying his new pair of skinnies, and reached under the doormat, his face stretching into a grin as he pulled out a silver key from beneath, showing it up to Howard in the moonlight.

"Oh, thank you Leroy!" Howard sang. _Thank you for being so simple and predictable._

Howard did a quick survey of the street from his left to his right as Vince opened the door. No sign of any cloaked stalker with a crossbow. Yet.

The door opened and they practically fell into the house. Vince hollered a quick call to see if anyone was in. Silence replied. The coast was clear. For now. They didn't turn any of the lights on, the amber glow from the streetlamp outside was enough for them to see around the place they already knew like their second home. Taking their boots off - out of pure habit as Leroy always made them do when entering his house - they dragged themselves into the living room and Vince collapsed on the sofa, head in his heads. Howard leaned against the door frame, holding himself pathetically as the last sight of his Defendant's dying face jolted through his mind.

He creased up his face in nerve-racking guilt that had so far been kept at bay by the thrill of the race. His lips released a tearless sob that made Vince look up at him.

"H'ward?…You 'kay?" He asked through battered breath.

Howard shook his head, refusing to look the younger man in the eye. His eyes were the same as _his_.

Vince stood up; "I'll make us some tea. We may be on the run, but we're still English, ey."

His attempt to bring a laugh, a smile or any reaction whatsoever out of Howard failed and he slumped into the kitchen, leaving Howard to his brooding.

"Leroy's moved everything around." Vince called from the other room after a minute or so; "You think he finally got therapy or sommat?"

Howard didn't reply, even though he knew the reasoning behind Vince's confusion. Their mutual friend was an obsessive compulsive cleaner and organizer, at least, when sober. It even annoyed Howard to a point, making his precious Stationary Village appear like a WHSmith Anarchist town.

After a short while, Vince came in carrying two mugs of tea, placing them on the coffee table; "They ain't that hot. 'Is kettles broken so I just had to use warm water from the tap."

"…No thanks," Howard cringed, throwing a dirty look at the cup. He wondered how anyone could be so thick as to make tea with hot tap water. Of course, only _his _companion.

Vince sat down in the armchair and sipped his cup, watching Howard all the time as he continued to stand in the door-frame with his arms folded.

"How can you drink that?!" Howard wrinkled his nose at Vince's drink; "It's not even proper tea."

"It's just normal water. 'E only 'ad one teabag left."

"Oh…" Howard faught the urge to kick himself; "Thanks. I think." He still didn't touch his cup. He wasn't _that _grateful.

A group of rowdy clubbers paraded past the window, crooning _"Show me the way to go home"_. Howard grumbled to himself and walked up to shut the curtains and turning on one of the lamps before collapsing on the sofa at the farthest end away from Vince's armchair.

Vince was tapping his fingers against the side of his cup; "…We need to call Naboo. 'E'll sort this all out."

"Clever idea, Vince. Especially as it's half three on a Saturday morning, you know what Naboo's gonna be up to at this time of night! The Arbiter would've found us by the time he regains consciousness." Howard said morbidly, rubbing his forehead.

Vince huffed, staring down at his water; "I was just tryin' to 'elp."

"Well, don't waste your energy!"

"Fine! I won't!"

Vince slammed his cup down on the coffee table and got up out of his chair. He then caught sight of himself in the mirror above Leroy's fireplace and yelped.

"What? What's wrong?" Howard got to his feet.

"My…my **_hair!_** Look at it, it's ruined!" He cried out, clutching at his drenched, wind-swept mane. Howard's fists tightened at his sides as the mod ruffled it in vein to get it back to it's styled beauty; "This is gonna take some major damage control."

"Oh for god's sake, we're hiding from a lifestyle-fascist killer - and you still have to be so fucking vain?!"

Vince turned around with a face of insult; "You need to learn to be more grateful. If it weren't for my _'fucking vanity' _then we'd be both be brown bread by now!"

"And you really enjoyed that, didn't you. I saw the drool dripping from your mouth. Congratulations, Vince Noir, you get to be the only person in the world who's ever got off on the sight of themselves getting off with themselves. You're disgusting, y'know that?"

"Shut it, you sad ol' virgin. Don't pretend you didn't get any feeling out of that, even if it was just jealousy." Vince snarled nastily.

"And what do you mean by that, sir?"

"I saw the way you kept looking at that guy. The blonde mini-me. I saw the way you gazed all googly eyed at 'im when 'e looked at you like you were some tragic hero. 'Ow you blushed like a little girl when he gave you that peck. Closest you've ever come to really scoring with someone, ain't it?" He finished with a cruel laugh.

"You little…" He growled, knowing he shouldn't rise to Vince's bait. "That guy DIED for us! And you're the one calling me 'ungrateful'?!"

"Well if I didn't know any better, I'd say you wish I'd been killed instead of him."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Howard snapped, turning his back on the mod.

"Yes, you do! You wish I was more like him, don't you? How I used to be back then. You can't just take me for what I am, can you? You think I turned into some evil monster, don't you and all you want is your precious _Little Vince _back!"

"If I did, it might be because at least 'Little Vince' didn't bully and humiliate me every two seconds! At least he showed me some respect!"

"And what did you show to him, ey Howard?" Vince smirked back as if almost amused they were finally having this fight. "Did you respect 'im the same way 'e did to you?"

Howard winced back; "Of course I did!"

"Really? That ain't how I remember it. I remember being called stupid and useless. I remember being made to do pretty dangerous tasks that Fossil had asked you to do. I remember being pushed aside whenever your precious Gideon showed her face. I remember being left out in the cold like a dog whenever I did something to annoy you, even in the fucking Arctic. I remember you losing your temper whenever I tried to give you a little bit of help, throwing whatever you could find at me and then never thanking me when I DID help you, even if I'd gone to hell and back to do it - THAT'S what I remember, Howard!"

"If that was that horrible for you then why didn't you say anything, you twit? Why always keep that annoying smug grin on your face as if nothing could be better?"

"Because I was young and stupid and in lo-…I was just a _kid_, Howard! I told myself the nicer I was to you, the less fuss I kicked up, the more you'd start to like me again - but it never worked like that, did it? So you know what I did? I **grew up.** Just like you always told me to do. I became my own person and that _still _wasn't good enough for you. You just wanted me to stay that dumb, laid-back side-kick who let you walk all over him and still look at you through rose-tinted glasses. And you still wish I was him, don't you?!"

Howard bit his lip; "We…we were happy at the zoo."

"No, Howard. _You _were happy at the zoo. And yeah, so was I, with the animals and seed-distribution - but not with you, not by the end. I was just too naïve to know any different. It ain't all about _your _happiness y'know, Howard!"

"Sayeth the narcissistic tramp!" Howard cursed, turning on his flat-mate, the end of his tether having been reached.

"At least I ain't the one standing moping around 'cause some body-snatching alien I knew for a couple of hours is now dead instead of thinking of a plan to help us! I mean, face it, it's not the first time you've lost your chance at pulling - it's a weekly occurrence!"

"At least I'm not some womanizing tart who goes around knocking up young girls!" Howard snapped back viciously; "I really pity that child of yours, y'know that?! She's gonna spend most of her life being the parent in your relationship, having to cope with looking after her whiny, reckless toddler of an old man!"

Vince's eyes widen. A nerve had been struck; "You said she said I was a great dad."

"She most likely only said that to get at me! Projecting any resentment she had towards you onto me. She'd've made anything up to make me feel bad; she was a mouthy little bitch - like father, like daughter!"

Vince slapped Howard so hard that he nearly stumbled back over the coffee table.

Rubbing his cheek, he glared furiously up at the smaller man before grabbing his cup of 'tea' off the coffee table and throwing the contents over Vince's head. The electro boy screamed shortly, expecting a scolding, only to remember the water wasn't boiled and his panic turned to irritation as he wiped the tepid liquid from his eyes.

"What is the matter with you?! You call me a toddler but there you again, throwing stuff, 'cause you can never just admit when you're wrong! It's always tea, a cup, a pencil case, a book, _ME!_ You're fucking _mental_, Howar-!"

Vince's tirade was cut short when Howard called his bluff and his palm slammed against his throat and his fingers enclosed around his neck, shoving him back against the wall, fear flashing over Vince's face.

"FINE! You wanna know the truth?!" Howard roared, crimson-faced and fuming like a volcano. "I DO wish you'd died instead him. At least then I'd have someone with me who cared about me. I'd have someone who was at least of some use instead of some self-obsessed, useless little idiot that's of no use other than to wind me up! What **_is _**the point of you, ey?! EY?!"

Howard and Vince's faces were barely an inch apart now. He wasn't squeezing Vince's neck but his hold wasn't exactly delicate either. The younger man looked up at him with wide, watery eyes that had switched in a heartbeat from rightfully vexed to…nothing. He was still and loose as a rag doll.

Vince raised his chin, eyes studying Howard's enraged face as if he was a curious piece of artwork. He then gave a sad smile; "…Y'know what, Howard? You'd make a great Arbiter."

The rumbling of an engine reared up outside the house.

Howard looked at Vince. Really looked at him. The defeat in his eyes took his mind back to the last violent outburst he'd taken out on the little man. And, fuck, he really was _little_. Compared to Howard, at least, he seemed so tiny and tender. Beautiful. Even with his mussed up hair and flushed, pasty, imperfect face. The seething resentment in Howard wanted to give him a symmetrical bruise to go with the purple mark beneath his right eye. Maybe even break his nose, that would put him in his place again, for sure. The other part of him wanted to pull him even closer, wrap him safely in his arms and…

The opening and closing of a car door outside the window snatched Vince's attention away from the slowly cooling Northerner. His eyes widened in hope; "Leroy!"

He released himself from Howard's now limp grip and raced towards the door, pulling on his silver boots in the hallway. He hadn't meant it. Of course he hadn't meant it. Howard shook himself out of his confused self-conflict and followed his friend, fretfully.

"Vince, wait a minute…" He said flatly, shoving his feet into his loafers. Wait. Wait for what? _Him? _How much longer could he ask Vince to wait for him?

The electro boy opened the door and trotted down the front garden path just as Leroy was hauling his suitcases out of his open trunk.

"Leroy, you're back!" Vince chirped, catching his friend's attention; "You won't believe how great it is to see you."

Leroy looked up, his eyes widening from Vince to Howard; "…Who the hell are you?! And what're you doing in my house?"

"Aha! Very funny, Leroy." Vince chuckled, playing along; "You been eating those hash cakes from Mrs. Pellum again?"

"Mrs. Pellum? She's been dead for years." Leroy frowned, "And yeah, I 'ave 'ad some cake but I've come down since then. And if you're not hallucinations then who are you?!"

Vince's face fell; "What you talkin' about, it's us! Vince and Howard! Your mates, remember?"

"Uh, Vince…" Howard tried to explain, immediately understand the look of bewilderment on their pal's face. He put a hand to the mod's shoulder but Vince shook him off. Howard didn't blame him.

Leroy shook his head; "I've never seen you before in my life."

"…Okay, fine, I get you not knowing who Howard is. No one does. But you know me, yeah? There's no way you could forget me!"

"Vince, listen!" Howard span the smaller man around to face him; "We don't exist anymore, remember? We never have existed. How can he remember us when he's never met us?"

Vince ripped himself from Howard's grip to turn back to Leroy. Howard sighed, there was no easy way that his friend was gonna grab the concept that he was completely insignificant in this world.

"Look, Leroy, you may think you don't know us, 'kay, but you do. We've been mates for years! We met you at the ice rink you worked at. We're both friends with an ape called Bollo and a shaman called Naboo-"

"Naboo? Yeah, I know Naboo. 'E's the one I got the cakes from." said Leroy with a dopey smile.

"We live with him! 'E's our landlord!" Howard joined in, unexpectedly.

Leroy scoffed; "Yeah right. I'm best mates with the two geezers at his flat. I'm pretty sure you ain't them!"

"**We** **are**!" Both boys chimed in unison.

Leroy opened his mouth to further deny their claims only he didn't get to finish. He would never be able to speak again.

This was probably to do with the shining white arrow-head that had just pieced its way out through his chest at that moment.

His simple face fell with a vague look of curiosity before his eyes rolled back.

"LEROY!"

Vince screamed his friend's name as Leroy Smith's body fizzled away into a waft of shining light, flowing backwards down the street and shot into the palm of the tall, dark figure standing at the far end of the road. Howard's heart skipped a beat. They'd been found.

He grabbed the slender hand beside him; "Vince, c'mon!"

"He killed Leroy! The bastard killed Leroy!" Vince raged, struggling against Howard's relentless grip.

"Vince, please! We've gotta go!"

The desperate tone in Howard's voice must have triggered something in Vince because the younger man quickly shook off his sudden urge for revenge and ran with Howard in the opposite direction of their would-be assassin.

If they were at Leroy's then that meant they were closer to home than first thought. Howard wracked his brains and managed to remember the quickest route along the back ally-ways to get to the Nabootique.

Left, straight along, first corner on the right, straight to the end, left, down, right. Faster. Faster. Don't stop. Right, along, keep going, left - Faster!

Vince slowed slightly. No! No time to stop. No time to mourn. Howard hauled Vince along, not caring if he had to drag his friend on the ground, he wasn't gonna slow down. They had to get home. They weaved in and around the corners, racing down another long, half-dead street, knocking aside any dazed walkers in their path. They were almost at the end.

A SNAP rang through the air, followed by a painful _splicing _sound. Vince screamed.

Howard felt the smaller man collapse, nearly pulling him to the ground as well. _NO! _

He released his hand and knelt down beside his friend lying face down on the wet pavement. Panting, despairing, his eyes were instantly drawn to Vince's right silver boot. And to the white arrow that was impaled in his ankle.

His heart shattered; "Oh my god…Vince! Vince, speak to me!" He cried, shaking the younger man by the shoulders.

Vince's eyes were squinted shut at the pain; "S'alright, Howard…y-you go. I'll slow you down. Y-you're almost there." His voice was weak and rasping.

Howard looked up and down the long street. A tiny being in the distance was growing larger in his vision as he strode towards his pray. Howard looked back down to Vince, looking so small and broken at his feet.

"…No, no, I can't. I can't just leave you." Howard's voice threatened to break at the horror gripping his soul.

"It's ok…" Vince smiled weakly, his eyes fluttering open to look up at his friends; "…You were right….W-what's the point of me, ey?…J-just go…"

A spark ignited in Howard's memory at Vince's words.

His mind flashed back to the Court of Merit. Those fading blue eyes appeared pleadingly.

The face of his Defendant…Vince's face…Dying. _"GO, HOWARD!"_

"Howard, go….stop wasting time…leave me." His own Vince's voice pulled him back to earth.

The maverick shook his head reverently. "Not in a million years, little man."

Howard took a deep breath and leaned down, scooping Vince up and off the ground and into his arms. In one eager moment, Howard slung Vince onto his back, letting the younger man wrap his arms tight around his neck. He stood up, leaning forward to hold Vince's weight, before charging forwards as fast as his blessed legs could manage for the both of them.

Eventually, they came around the final corner and the red paint of the Nabootique was in sight. Howard sprinted forward, elated by Vince's sigh of relief brush against his ear, reaching the side door, the shutters sealing off any hope of entering by breaking the glass at the entrance to the shop.

Howard ducked down to allow Vince to slide off his back, balancing on his non-wounded ankle whilst leaning on Howard for support. There didn't seem to be any signs of him about to disintegrate like the Defendant and Leroy had, Howard thankfully noticed.

"You alright?" Howard asked gently, giving him a reassuring squeeze on the arm.

Vince nodded, still wincing slightly; "Mmmm, s'just my foot kills. I'll be fine. Quick, call Naboo, get 'im to let us in before creepy cloak appears."

"Right…Oh shit. They're not gonna let us in, are they?" Howard groaned, "If Leroy didn't remember us then they won't either. Naboo's gonna think we're Mormons or insurance salesmen." he looked to the corner of the street, expecting the Arbiter to come striding around in a flurry of black cloak at any moment.

"Wait…what time did you say it was earlier?" Vince asked, his brow creasing.

"Uhm, half three. Must be about four now."

Vince thought for a couple of seconds longer and then clicked the buzzer.

There was a short pause.

"Ergh…hello?" Naboo's confused lisp uttered through the speaker; "Who's that?"

Vince cleared his throat before putting on a distinct chavy Camden accent; "Alright blud', m' 'ere from Wario's All-night Pizzeria with an order for two cheesy crust wonders. I got a hot n' spicy meat deluxe with anchovies and a mix 'em up with 'am, pineapple and a special request of banana slices - all ordered for this gaff, is that sick with you, blud?"

"….Yeah, that sounds about right. Come on up." Naboo replied, jadedly.

"Respect." Vince finished as the front door unlocked for them.

He grinned back at Howard who was staring at him in awe; "That was really good. You should think about doing voices for cartoon characters."

Vince frowned, his normal mockney twang returning; "Why, what's wrong with them doing their own voices?"

Howard shook his head, smiling fondly. Another lesson for another time. He let Vince lean on him again as they entered the stairway, quickly closing the door behind them and limping up the stairs as quickly as they could manage.

When they reached the top of the stairs they were met with the sight of a cranky shaman with the munchies, his turban on backwards and an accusing glare.

"You ain't the pizza boy!" He glowered before looking down the corridor; "BOLLO!"

"No, Naboo, hear us out, please!" Howard begged, putting one placating hand out whilst the other helped to keep Vince upright.

The shaman frowned; "How d'you know my name?"

"'Cause we used to live here!" Vince explained, desperately. "We were your two flat mates. Howard and Vince? You knew us at the Bob Fossil's Zooniverse and then when that closed, we came here with you and Bollo, we started a band together for a bit. We're always getting in trouble or nicking your stuff and you have to save us. And sometimes we work in your shop - is any of this ringing a bell to you?"

The sound of the front door below opening below made the hairs on Howard's neck stand erect.

Naboo nodded slowly; "Yeah, most of that rings a bell. But not with you two though."

Footsteps pounded up the staircase. _Two _lots of footsteps.

"With who then?" asked Howard.

"_Them!" _

Naboo pointed to the space behind them.

The duo turned around to see the last two faces they wanted to see at that moment. The last two human faces at any rate. Their jaws dropped as their eyes fell upon two people who mirrored almost everything about them from their clothes to their hairstyles to the way they held themselves as they stood, just as baffled, before them.

"Who's these berks, Naboolio?" the taller man in a blue and yellow Hawaiian shirt identical to Howard's asked the shaman; "Oh er, nice to meet you two, allow me to introduce us both-"

"Oi!" his raven-haired companion sniped, elbowing him sharply; "_I _do the introductions - remember?"

His moustached friend hung his head, looking for all words like a kicked puppy; "Sorry."

The slender man rolled his eyes, looking back to Howard and Vince; "Anyway, allow _me _to introduce us both - my name's Lance Dior and this crazy character, is Harold Boon."

* * *

**'Kay, Harold and Lance turning up probably doesn't make a lot of sense. Just remember, in the words of Dr. Who; time isn't a set line, it's a big ball of wibbley-wobbly, timey-wimey....stuff. I do actually explain it in the next chapter, if you'd be patient with me, plskthnxbai.**

**And I apologize for Leroy, I've never been good at writing him. Hope most of it was ok. Reviews would be great, ta. **


	13. Target Practise

**Yo! I went overboard with this next part and had to split it into two so sorry if it doesn't exactly flow right. Thanks again to reviews so far, much appreciated. I apologize in advance for any grammar/spelling mistakes. It's 5 in the morning and I'm too wiped to go over them just now.  
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**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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"What - in the name of Iggy Pop - are _you _doing 'ere?" Vince immediately seethed, straightening up as he leaned against Howard.

The doppelgangers chuckled and shared an amused look before turning back to the pair.

"What're we doing 'ere?? We live 'ere! This is our flat, sir." Harold Boon explained simply.

It was Howard's turn to snap; "No it isn't! It's our flat - and, for the final time, I call people 'sir', sir, not you!"

"Oh is that true, sir?" Harold scoffed.

"Yes _indeed_, sir!"

"Howard! Not now!" Vince hissed in the maverick's ear before turning back on his nemesis'; "Should've known you'd be 'ere. We get erased and you jump in and take our places like _that!" _Vince finished with a click of his fingers.

"What d'you mean, 'take your places'? What places?" Harold asked, bemused.

"_Our _places! You two, you tried it before, copying everything we did, our looks, our hair, our crimps - you took our _crimps, _you wankers!" Vince cursed as if it was the ultimate insult. "And 'ere you are again, the competition gone, so you thought you'd come back."

Both Lance and Harold's faces hardened; "We - have - never - seen - you - before." they chanted in unison. "How the 'ell could we copy you, whoever you are, you must've copied us, you freaks!"

"But that…" Howard began his argument in defense. Only there wasn't one. He looked to Vince at his side and the mod's eyes met his. His friend may not have been the brightest glitter sequin but even he was smart enough to know this was wrong. Their identity thieves were alive, living their lives, not as doppelgangers. Just as themselves. No Vince and Howard to copy in the first place. "How does _that _work?" he said, hushed, to Vince who shrugged his shoulders, just as confused.

The padding of large feet came down the corridor behind them.

"Beautiful Lance's hair look good today. Love the jacket."

"Cheers Bollo." Lance thanked, an ugly smug smirk on his face.

The ape nodded his head and grunted; "Howard."

Howard's heart leapt; "Bollo! You know who I am!?"

"Er," Harold interjected, stepping forward. "He means me, mate. And it's _Harold _by the way, you hairy dosser."

"Oh, Harold, yeah. Bollo take band gear." The gorilla moved forward to take the amp from Lance's hand. The other duo had clearly just come back from a gig like the ones Howard and Vince used to do together.

"Before you do that, Bollo, you've got another job. You need to throw out these two weirdoes." Lance ordered haughtily, nodding towards where Howard and Vince stood.

Bollo regarded them blankly; "Who pretty man-child and creepy librarian? Friends of Precious Lance?"

Howard heard Vince wince, hissing inwardly like an enraged cat.

"They ain't no way friends of any of us." Lance snarled; "They've just appeard 'ere, talking jibberish and dressed like a sparkly tit and his dad."

"You're dressed the same way!" Howard shot back.

"Yeah but we pull it off with style. Even Harold." Lance paused; "Ok, just me."

"Look, we're not the enemy here, ok! There's this alien priest running around town obliterating people from history and he's looking for us!" Howard explained, turning to Naboo.

The shaman's eyes widened, his attention truly caught; "You mean…The Arbiter? 'E's after you?"

"Yes!"

"And he's followed you _here_?!"

"YES!"

"Right." Naboo nodded, eyes shifting between the both of them. He then looked to his familiar; "Bollo, do as Lance said - chuck 'em out. Harold, give him a hand."

Bollo grunted, obediently waddling up behind where Howard was stood and grabbing his hands behind his back with one large paw, the other grabbing the back scruff of his shirt. The wounded Vince stumbled, loosely, to one side at Howard's reluctant release but was captured by Harold's hands locking his own back in the same way whilst Lance stood to one side, grabbing a can of Sprite from the fridge and watching with amusement.

Both boys struggled against their captors holds, looking to Naboo with big, pleading eyes and frowns of confusion and betrayal.

"Naboo, c'mon! You can't just turn us over to him!" Howard cried out.

"Look, if you two were found guilty and sentenced to be erased than - I'm sorry - but I can't do anything to help you. If I get done for harbouring two escapees from the Court of Merit then it's gonna be mine and Bollo's balls on the line as well." Naboo explained, stonily.

"But we were your friends! You'd always help us out before!" Vince tried, voice whimpering slightly, both at the fear and the pain in his ankle induced by the rough way Harold was handling him; "We were better mates to you than these two losers, I bet. C'mon, Naboolio, we need you!"

Naboo's impassive expression wavered, for a split second, obviously unable to resist the power Vince's puppy-dog eyes completely. Then he shook his head.

"I'm sorry. Harold, Bollo - door. Now." He commanded sharply.

Howard and Vince continued to writhe and protest with every step they were moved down the staircase. The side door to the flat lay below them and their hearts began to palpitate at the knowledge that death itself was most likely waiting just outside. They looked to each other, knowing they had to come up with something to stop them going through the doorway.

A burnt-out light bulb flickered in Howard's mind-space for a brief second. He met Vince's eyes again and smirked slightly.

"Well, Vince, it looks like this is the end!" he said, loud enough for his voice to drift back up the stairway. "What will you regret most about dying, ey?"

Vince frowned; "Howard, this ain't really the time for-" He cut himself off when he noticed the maverick wiggling his eyebrows. But not in the same creepy, rapist fashion as usual. "Oh…"

"Bet you're sad you won't be able to line up now for that '90% off everything' Sale at Topshop starting this morning in just a few hours, ain't ya." Howard winked.

A pair of boots pattered along the floorboards above them.

Vince gave a cheeky grin; "Yeah, that _really _stings! And, poor you Howard, not being able to go to that Bookmark Convention being held all night in the town centre."

"What?" Harold froze on the bottom step, releasing Vince. Bollo also stood still, confused.

Taking what seemed like three steps at a time, Lance bolted down the staircase to where they were all stood, still drinking his can of Sprite whilst stuffing his wallet in the tight pockets of his jeans.

"Which Topshop?!" He demanded to know, advancing on Vince.

"What colour bookmarks?" Harold did the same, only to Howard.

"The one on the high street. Better get there quick though, there were already three young girls camped outside when we passed it earlier." Vince said, nonchalant, admiring his nails.

"And all the many shades of brown you can imagine, sir." Howard smiled to his double.

The copy cats exchanged giddy looks; "Well it ain't like we're the ones being hunted down by this Arbiter bloke, is it?" Lance shrugged. "Bollo, you can take care of these two. I've gotta go kick those brats out of my line. C'mon, Boon, you're giving me a lift before you go to your nerd gathering."

Lance pinched Harold's earlobe and dragged him towards the door way, flinging it open and rushing out down the road, towards their camper van. Vince scowled at his double's back as he left.

"What a bitch." He said, disgusted that anyone could treat their best friend so cruelly. Howard thought that it put Vince's recent behaviour towards him in some perspective.

Bollo shook his hairy head; "Precious Lance only _look _precious like pretty flower. Inside he full of sharp, nasty thorns. Bollo just do as told to avoid being made into special coat for Camden Prince."

Vince turned around, one hand up against the wall to steady himself, looking horrified and pitifully at the ape; "How dare he threaten to do that to you?! That's evil! And gorilla-fur coats are grotesque." He then proceeded to throw his arms around Bollo's large neck.

Bollo seemed taken aback at this unusual show of affection. He reached up a black hand to stroke Vince's ebony locks.

"Bollo, you ball-bag, what're you doing? I said for you to throw them out, not hug them!" Naboo sniped, moving down the stairs. "And where 'ave those two dossers gone?"

"Lance go to Topshop sale. Howard go to Pervert Parade." Bollo said vaguely as he pulled back gently from Vince's embrace.

"He's not Howard - _I'M _Howard!" groaned the not-Harold.

"Don't care who you are, you're getting out of my flat before what's-his-face appears. Bollo, get to it!" Naboo ordered again, with a firmer tone of voice.

The gorilla stared down at his shuffling his feet in hesitation.

"Bollo…" Naboo pressed.

"Pretty Stranger kind to Bollo. No want to throw him out to evil Aradian. Want to brush his hair and feed him flying saucers."

His master rolled his eyes. "I knew I should've got that upgrade."

Before Howard and Vince could have another go at trying to win Naboo round, their doubles jogged back to the entrance, standing on the pavement in front of them looking disgruntled.

"We need your magic carpet, Naboo, the van won't start." Lance whined.

"Yeah 'cause _someone _thought it would be a good idea to charge their straighteners up using the cigar heater." Harold shot a narrow-eyed look at his companion.

"Hey that is quite a good idea." Vince chirped before receiving a similar glance from Howard, "'Kay, maybe not."

Lance ignored his friend and nodded at Bollo; "Oi, Burger King Kong. Go fetch that carpet for us."

"A please wouldn't hurt ya." Vince muttered, putting a hand out to stroke Bollo's shoulder.

"Yes, it would. I'm allergic to manners."

"Well if you go around being a twat to people then it's all gonna come back at ya one day." Vince warned with a wisdom Howard didn't know he possessed.

Lance laughed, cockily, and stepped back onto the empty, silent road. "Oh really, is that right? Well come on then, Universe! Give me all you've got if I really deserve it."

Merely silence.

"Ahaha," Lance chuckled at the stillness; "See? Karma, my - ARGH!"

Everyone watching flinched back, Vince even burying his head like a frightened toddler in Bollo's fur, as Lance's hands shot up to feel the white arrow that had shot out of the sky and stabbed through his throat. He tottered to the side before falling down and onto the road.

Harold cried out his name and rushed to his side, kneeling over him, panting with the panic coursing through his veins. Lance's body convulsed on the floor, his wide eyes staring up at the stars in silent horror, his jaw wide as blood gurgled from his mouth.

Howard, meanwhile, didn't need to set a foot out of the door to know what this meant. He took a step back in the small hallway, looking to the side to make sure Vince was well and truly inside, and thankfully the boy was still clinging to Bollo as a child would do a security blanket. Whilst watching over Vince, however, he was unable to stop Naboo from venturing out into the street and to his two tenants.

The shaman looked over the pale and dying Lance Dior as his friend stroked back his fringe from his forehead; "Oh, Lance…Don't leave me, please, speak to me!"

"Urgh…." Lance gagged, his body stiffening as he strained his torn vocal cords; "D-don't…touch…my hair!"

A second arrow bulleted through the air. This one hit Harold Boon square in the chest, making him fall to his knees and collapse over his now still and quiet companion's body. In the next second, their bodies were gone and converted into the familiar bright white essence.

Howard watched as Naboo turned his head to look in the direction the arrows had flown from. The vivid change in his deadpan expression let Howard know exactly what he'd seen. What Howard didn't expect was what Naboo did next.

He dug one hand into one of the pockets of his shaman robes and produced from it a large, spherical, crystal bottle that, from where Howard was, couldn't possibly have fit in any of his pockets by the laws of Earth physics. Naboo pulled the cork from the bottle and whipped it through the air, capturing the essences from Lance and Harold inside the crystal. He quickly pulled it back and sealed it with the cork, stuffing it back into his robes and dashing into the front door to stand in front of Howard, looking back out onto the now empty street. The sound of sandals moving at a quickening pace was all that disturbed the stillness.

Howard held his breath as the Arbiter finally came into the view, pausing at the spot where his pray had fallen, defeated, to the ground. He knelt down, his black chemical robes sweeping the tar as one rotten hand padded the area. Howard thought he could hear a sniffing sound coming from the assassin. The Arbiter's head was examining the area with what appeared to be confusion.

"Hey! Arbiter!" Naboo hollered fearlessly. "You got the wrong guys, you ball-bag."

The Arbiter straightened, uttering an angered groan, his invisible face looking over to the door way. Howard stepped further back, the cold dread of vulnerability washing over him as he thought, just for a second, he could see a pair of eyes flash beneath the Arbiter's hood.

Naboo nodded towards his two intruders; "These are the idiots you want, yeah?"

With another groan, the Arbiter strode forwards onto the pavement and closer towards the door. Howard heard Vince whimper into Bollo's fur and it was all he needed to keep his knees firm in spite of his fear, his heart thumping with an overwhelming need to protect Vince till the end.

The Arbiter was a metre away from the door. Naboo raised his fist and punched the fire alarm on the wall to his right marked:

"_In case of evil Aradian priest seeking to erase occupants - BREAK GLASS"_

The whole house rumbled slightly as if by the tremor of a small earthquake. When the Arbiter took another step forward, he was thrown back through the air and onto the pavement by a translucent mauve force-field that had appeared around the shop. The Arbiter got to his feet again and proceeded to try and pass through the shield, almost comically, like a fly throwing itself against a window, only to be stopped in his tracks.

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**Good ol' Naboo, ey. Onto the next part...**


	14. Poisoned

**Sorry that this part is mostly waffle and yet longer than the adventure, fast-paced part before. Turns out my only real skill is at waffle. Just be thankful it's a bit less angsty here.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.  
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The Arbiter put his skeletal hands to the barrier and peered through to the occupants on the other side. Particularly, it seemed, on Naboo; "…Xooberish!" he hissed with disdain.

"Aradian." Naboo regarded. "How's it going on your planet now, apart from the global drought and famine. Still bitter that we beat you at cricket last century?"

"Your filthy Wizard kind cheats as it always does. The Xooberish never have any respect for laws and basic rules of society. You're creatures of the dark arts, black magic, gambling and, apparently, hiding hostages and _stealing_."

"At least we ain't sore losers. Or killers. Those were my two tenants you just murdered in cold blood - they still owe me this months rent, you gonna pay that for them? And I ain't stolen anything. I just brought these essences back to their home." Naboo explained faultless, patting one of his tiny pockets.

"My arrows converted them, their energy is rightfully mine!" the Arbiter spat; "And as for those two worms you have hiding in there with you, their wasted lives are bound to me, sentenced by a fair trial."

"Pull the other one, oh great Arbiter, I've heard too well how 'fair' your trials are. The only way these two berks would've had a chance would be by bribing the entire jury."

"There weren't even any jury!" Howard spoke up; "And even if there was, Howard Moon does not stoop to pay twelve men and women to get him off, sir."

Vince couldn't resist a chuckle. He whispered his private thoughts to Bollo who joined in on the laugh.

Howard rolled his eyes. Nope, the joking at his expense would never stop, no matter how serious the circumstance.

"Laugh it up, you human scum." the Arbiter said, sounding almost amused, "But this pathetic shaman magic trick won't last forever. And just because it appears that you've sealed me out here doesn't mean that you're safe. You still have a piece of me in there with you. And as soon as you falter, this barrier will break. Then you'll _all _be mine. The only thing I have to do - is wait."

"Right. Well, hope you don't get too bored with that." Naboo then slammed the front door, sealing every lock for good purpose.

A small cloud of the tension was lifted from the flat. For now they could all at least fool themselves that they were safe and it was another late Friday night.

Howard took a deep sigh of relief; "Naboo…Thank you. But what did he mean that we have a piece of him in here with us?"

Behind him, Vince groaned uncomfortably; "Urgh…Howard-"

"Yes, Vince, I'm sure the new joke you've just come up with is very funny, I'll hear it in a minute." Howard said, lazily, over his shoulder.

"No…Howard, my foot…Argh!" the mod cried out, flopping down and sitting on his crumpled legs.

Howard span around; "Vince!" He was at his side in a heartbeat, even though Bollo's hands were already on him, holding him together like a crumbling statue. "Vince, what's a matter?"

"My ankle, Howard….it's been a pain since it got hit but…now it's…oh, fuck, it _really _hurts." He grimaced, clutching tighter to Bollo who fussed more and more over his dead flat-mate's double.

Howard looked down at Vince's silver boot, expecting to see the arrow still impaled through his heel from their earlier close encounter with the Arbiter. Now the arrow was gone. There was merely a small tear in the fabric of his boot. Thinking back, Howard couldn't remember seeing the arrow after they'd arrived at the Nabootique, even if he hadn't been paying attention to Vince's wound as he should've been doing. The arrow must have fallen out while he was giving Vince a piggy back.

Naboo stepped forward, glancing down at Vince's boot quickly before looking at his familiar; "Bollo, get him upstairs and put him on the sofa. Take his boots off and just put some frozen peas on his ankle for now, I'll see to it in a sec."

Bollo nodded obediently and slid his arms under Vince to lift him up, holding the skinny man as if he weighed no more than a large bundle of clothes ready for the wash. He turned and was about to make their way up the stairs when Vince looked back and reached back out to his friend.

"Howard…" he cried back, needily, flexing his fingers. His eyes glistened with a fresh sheen of worry.

Touched, merely by the simple fact that he was _wanted_, Howard stepped forward and clutched Vince's hand in his own, giving him a comforting smile.

"It's alright, little man. You heard Naboo, we'll be up in a sec, promise. Just let Bollo look after you until then, ok. Can you do that for me?" Howard soothed, gripping Vince's shaking hand tight.

Vince nodded, able to form a reassured smile and slowly slipping his fingers from Howard's hand and putting it around Bollo's neck as the ape proceeded to carry him up the stairs. Vince didn't stop looking back at Howard until they were at the stop the stairs, as if he were afraid that the Arbiter would storm through and kill his friend if he dared to look away.

His heart hammering against his chest, Howard turned to Naboo who was watching him curiously; "…So. You're gonna help us now, yeah?"

"'Spose I ain't got a choice now Bollo's attached himself to your mate. Can't have a sulking familiar on my hands, his aura will interfere with my spell work." Naboo explained dryly.

"You could always get that upgrade." Howard raised an eyebrow.

"Too much hassle. Forms and the like. Anyway, yeah, I'll help you both. I'd seen enough of the two other guys, it's about time I had some new tenants."

Howard smiled, thankfully, then shook his head; "It doesn't make sense, Naboo. In our…parallel universe or whatever, me and Vince lived and worked here and Lance and Harold were only the way they were 'cause they copied us. How could they have replaced us?"

"Not sure," Naboo shrugged, pulling out the bottle with the spirits wafting mindlessly around inside to study them, "I did once ask Lance why he was so determined to be this great Rock n' Roll whore or whatever it was. He said it all came to him in a dream when he was little and that it was his destiny. Same must have been true for Harold." he put the bottle back in his robes and looked up at Howard just as curiously; "Which must mean that some of yours and your friends essences still had a presence in this world. Like a footprint from another universe. But you must have had pretty powerful and lively spirits to make an imprint like that across time - which doesn't make any sense if the Arbiter thinks you're unworthy of being alive."

"So…" Howard pondered, considering Naboo's words; "You think he might be wrong? Me and Vince _do _deserve a second chance if we're that significant?"

"Maybe. Or it could just be one big cosmic fuck up."

* * *

After Howard had explained most of the night's events to Naboo in as brief detail as possible, from his trial to their escape - to Leroy's death and Vince being shot, Naboo had made him go and fetch some supplies from his room whilst Naboo studied one of his many . As eager as Howard was to be of use, it begrudged him a bit to be made to carry shaman tools when he'd much prefer to be at Vince's side, making sure he was ok. Especially after he'd seen in his friend's face just how much he'd wanted him beside him.

But Vince had Bollo with him. And, anyway, Vince was a grown man. He shouldn't worry so much, Howard told himself. He shouldn't feel so desperate to indulge Vince's need to cling to him, even if it was an innocent quality of the younger man that he'd shamefully missed in recent months.

When Naboo had finished reading up on all he needed, he began walking into the living room, beckoning Howard to follow.

On the sofa, Bollo had carefully settled Vince down and removed his boots as ordered, as well as fluffed up the pillows beneath Vince's head and made him a banana smoothie. He was now pressing a fist full of frozen peas against the electro boy's ankle.

Naboo sighed; "Bollo - I meant peas still in the packet."

The ape grunted guiltily and shuffled back, the cluster of two dozen peas still in his hairy hand as Naboo stepped forward and knelt down to examine Vince's bare foot.

Placing the shaman supplies on the coffee table, Howard knelt down beside Vince's head, watching as he sucked calmly on the straw of his drink. Howard could nearly believe that it was just another lazy Saturday for his little friend.

He gently brushed back his fringe from his forehead; "Hey. How's my wounded soldier doing?"

Vince smiled around his straw, detaching it from his lips; "'M more like a crippled ballerina. It ain't so bad now though, can't really feel it. Think it was just the shock of everythin', y'know."

"Maybe. We're safe now though and Naboo's gonna fix you up, good as new. Won't you, Naboolio?…Naboo?"

Howard and Vince both looked to Naboo who was frowning at Vince's ankle, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Worry quickly rising, Howard shuffled along to get a look at what was making the shaman look so despaired. He spotted it straight away. In Vince's ankle was an angry yet closed sphere of red-raw flesh, no larger than a grape. Yet, from that tiny hole, a thin, silver line beneath Vince's skin had spread up to a quarter way up his thigh.

"What is that?" Howard asked, never having seen anything like it before, and praying that Bollo would confess to doodling on Vince if he'd slipped out of consciousness for a second. "Is it…Anti-essence?"

Naboo nodded gravely; "He told you about this stuff then."

"Actually my…Uhm, yeah, I was told about it." Howard said, clearing his throat; "Is that's what's inside him now?"

"Yeah. And it's slowly making his way towards his heart." Naboo replied, not taking his concerned eyes off the silver line.

Howard gulped, part of him sensing that the next question was pointless to ask; "…And when it reaches his heart?"

Naboo looked up; "…Well. You saw what 'appened to the other two yeah? Only they were shot in the chest or near to so the poison spread quickly."

"Poison?!" Vince sat up slightly, his eyes wide; "I've been _poisoned_?!"

Howard gripped his hand again.

"Pretty much, yeah." said Naboo. "That's what this is, poison for your soul. Similar thing happened to Lance, recently, when he ate one of Harold's jazz lps and was infected with a jazz virus and we had to inject-"

"Yeah, yeah, been there, done that, got the scuba suit." Howard cut him off.

His mind was unwillingly cast back to the image of Vince lying on the counter, drenched with fever, dying, calling out to Howard for help in a voice that only he could understand. It had been the worst moment of his life until tonight.

Vince shuddered into his pillows; "…Am I gonna die?"

Howard felt his heart shatter. He clutched Vince's hand even tighter in his own.

Naboo looked his patient in the eyes; "I won't lie to you, Vince, this is bad ju ju. And there's no real known cure for Anti-Essense….But. There is a theory. It's never had a chance to be tested before but as far as I can see it makes sense. If I can gather the strengths of enough souls - or ghosts - into one vial then it should be able to combat the Anti-Essence in you the same way that the jazz cell was defeated. There's more than enough lost spirits in London for me to summon - it's just a matter of calling them all together in time and brewing the potion, and how long we've got before the Anti-Essence reaches your heart."

"How long is that?" Howard asked tentatively.

"I can't say, exactly. Judging by how far it's spread so far then…a few hours. Maybe more. It's working its way incredibly slowly which means that Vince's spirit must be putting up a good fight. The more optimistic he is, the more centred, then the more time you'll have."

"And how long will it take you to brew the potion?"

Naboo clicked his tongue; "…Six hours."

Vince gasped; "B-but you said I only had a few hours to go!"

"No! I said that's how long, based on how far it's travelled so far. If you just try and stay positive, put your minds off everything for a moment, enjoy yourselves if you can - then, with any luck, your spirit could easily hold back the Anti-essence and keep it below your waist for at least eight or nine hours tops."

Vince breathed a heavy sigh, relieved a little and closing his eyes to try and regain some of his usual sunshiney thoughts. Howard rubbed his shoulder supportively; "C'mon, Vince, focus. Just think of Mick n' Keith. Gary Numan. Ice cream in the park. Sales at Topshop."

"Mmmm," a contented smile began to worm it's way along his face; "90% off. Ah, that feels a bit better."

"Good lad." Howard said, stroking his hair back. He looked to Naboo again; "What about the Arbiter? He's gonna keep trying to get in to kill us both. And you two as well probably."

"Let him try. The hordes of Hell's warriors couldn't get through that barrier - and believe me, they've tried. Never try and cheat at a game of Go Fish against Satan." Naboo explained, proudly.

"But he's still out there, Naboo. We're gonna have to go outside eventually."

"I've got something planned, alright? Trust me. Head Shaman's been saying how he's sick of moonlighting for that guy. He'll help us sort him out, don't worry."

Vince resumed drinking the last of his smoothie. Howard merely decided to take those last two words as good advice and trust in Naboo. He'd always come through for them before. Most of the time. He prayed that the same good fortune applied in this altered reality.

"Anything I can do to help?" he asked before letting out a small yawn that appeared from god knows where.

"Yes. Rest. Sleep for a bit, if you can, you too Howard." Naboo said sharply. "You both look half-dead."

* * *

Bollo had clearly taken a bit of offense when Vince had said that he wanted Howard to half-walk, half-carry his limping form into their bedroom. Well, Lance and Harold's bedroom, which was more or less identical to their own. Vince had sat on the edge of Lance's bed, rummaging through his CD-rack and commenting distastefully on all his double's choices.

"Ugh, look at this rubbish!" the mod had cringed; "AC/DC, Adam Ant, The Cure, Human League!"

Howard had frowned; "Vince, you love all those artists."

"Yeah but at least I 'ave the original cassette tapes like a proper fan. Such an amateur. And 'ave you seen your copy cat's attempt at Stationary Village? Even the paperclips look eager to skip town. You should take them to your promised land, Sheriff."

"Might just do that. They can call me the Pencil Pimpernel."

Vince smirked cheekily; "Well the first syllable after 'Pencil' would be enough."

After a few more moments of light-hearted banter, Vince had begun to yawn wide and loud like a cat and Howard helped settle him down on Lance's bed. In order to keep an eye on the silver line, Howard had convinced Vince to change and remove his jeans. He'd handed him his favourite over-sized Stones t-shirt to wear but the mod had rejected it, scowling at the sight of the garment for obvious reasons of it's previous owner.

"Doesn't even feel as soft as my one." Vince had muttered before eyeing up Howard; "Your shirt looks comfier than that."

"Would you prefer my shirt?"

"…Yeah ok."

Howard's eyebrows had nearly shot clean off his face. He'd only suggested it as a joke. But the sickly smaller man now seemed determined. Sighing, Howard undid the buttons and detached himself from the shirt, handing it to his companion who slipped it over his half-naked body. Howard smiled at the sight. The shirt _drowned _Vince, making him look even smaller than usual. It was quite an adorable sight, he thought strangely to himself.

After doing up most of the buttons, Vince beamed at Howard gratefully and lay back down onto the sequin duvet whilst Howard put on a leaf green jumper from one of Harold's draws, not having quite the same level of revulsion for their deceased rivals as Vince did. He sat on his double's bed, against the headboard, knowing full well that Vince was still watching him.

"H'ward?" Vince finally broke the tired silence creeping upon them.

"Mmm?"

"Everything's gonna be alright, yeah? Naboo's gonna make the potion and cure me and then him or his shaman mates will take care of creepy cloaks for us. Right?"

Howard looked across the small gap in their room. He could've given his usual brutally honest answer. But this was a special case and Vince needed to be kept in blind optimism; "…That's right, little man. You just have a little sleepy and when you wake up, everything will be sorted."

"Genius." Vince yawned again.

Another pause.

"Howard?"

"Yes, Vince?"

"…I hate this bed. Can I…y'know?"

Howard had seen this request coming a mile off. Which meant he'd had time to prepare himself.

He shuffled up against the wall and patted the spot.

Soon enough, Vince had limped over the small gap and flopped down on Harold Boon's mattress, nestling down beside Howard and grinning sleepily up at him; "Thanks. You ain't so bad, are ya."

"Shut up and go to sleep, you." Howard chided softly, pulling Vince's side of the duvet up and over him, tucking him in slightly where he lay on his side.

Vince yawned for the final time; "Mmm'kay." He closed his eyes. Howard settled down beside him, watching intently as his breathing evened out into slumber. He kept stroking his hair in soft, slow motions, staring at the placated smile remaining on Vince's face, even in his sleep. He lay looking so angelically blissful, despite the frightfully sore marks on his foot, neck and face - he didn't let any of them affect his ever-resilient spirit. Howard thought he was incredible.

He tried not to listen to anything other than the sound of Vince's peaceful breathing. Not to try and hear the Arbiter pacing like a starving wolf on the hunt outside their sanctuary. Not to listen to his own erratic heart-beat affected by the knowledge that there was something, once again, inside Vince and slowly killing him - something that he was useless to defeating.

Howard didn't want to go to sleep. He wanted to stay wide awake and make sure that Vince's smile never fell from his face. But the night's traumatic events quickly caught up with him, pulling him into a reluctant slumber, the troubled universe descending into vague darkness in his mind's eye.

He wasn't even aware that he'd fallen asleep with his arm draped around his best friend.

* * *

**Again, sorry for the grammer/spelling, if any I've missed, I'll check through again tomorrow. Feedback would be love, ta.**


	15. We Come Undone

**Right. Prepare yourselves, campers. This is a pretty long chapter. Normally I split it in half for here but it just wouldn't look right if I did that for this chapter - so you'll have to take it or leave it. Reason it's so long is 'cause, despite the lack of action, it's a very...ground-breaking part of the story, if that's the right way of saying it. Hope you like - and thank you for the generous reviews so far. Honestly, they're what makes me keep giving into the urge to write this.**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine.  
**

* * *

After the fourth restless dream in merely an hour of attempted sleeping, Howard decided to give up trying. He'd never been one for naps, even as a child, not that it had been encouraged at all. It was important to keep busy, yes sir, there were only one thousand, four hundred and forty minutes in a day and so much stock-taking to do and stationary to be arranged. Vince, on the other hand, when not running on a rush of sugar, alcohol or just plain sunshine, spent every other moment curled up on the sofa in dream land. Howard would moan and chastise him for being so lazy, never confessing how it melted his heart to be able to stand and admire his serene sleeping form for as long as he wished.

This was another one of those moments, only marred by the threat of the situation at hand. Howard sat up against the head-bored, as refreshed as he accepted he was gonna get tonight, looking down at the slumbering body beside him. The first few rays of sunlight were now shining faintly through the window as if it was any normal day. It made Howard feel oddly insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But, looking down at Vince, one small hand fisted into his corduroy trousers, that dismal feeling seemed to retreat swiftly.

Every now and then he kept glancing down at Vince's bare legs that were surprisingly masculine considering, though not unusual taking in his hushed love of football and tennis, or any sport that he was annoyingly better than Howard at. He looked to the silver line. In the space of an hour it had only just reached to an inch below his knee-cap. Howard sighed, resuming his gentle stroking of Vince's hair, thankful that at least he was lucky enough to given some good dreams, as ever.

This was pathetic. How could he just sit there while Naboo and Bollo were the ones working away to try and save Vince's life? Tonight, Howard had been shown his soul. Every cowardice, lazy, ungrateful part of it and it had _sickened _him. He wanted to help Vince. He wanted to give him a reason to look at him with those cerulean stars in his eyes. The same way he had at the zoo.

Gently picking Vince's fingers off his trousers, Howard slowly slid off the end of the bed, careful not to disturb him. As he began to tread towards the door, he heard the younger man mewl into his pillow from behind him. His heart swelled at the thought that Vince missed his presence.

He couldn't help but wonder when the shift had occurred. When had Vince's hero-worship and clinginess become so endearing rather than irritating? _You've only been fooling yourself, Moon._

A defeated sigh escaped him. Maybe a shower would clear his head.

Ten minutes later, Howard emerged from the bathroom re-dressed and scrubbing a towel over his face and hair. He hadn't been able to get the hot water going but an ice cold shower was what he'd been looking for to cool the over-heated frustration inside of him. Not just frustration at having to throw out Lance's four hundred different types of hair-care and skin products to find a simple shampoo suited for his soft brown smoke. Nor the worry whether if it was possible for the Arbiter to sneak into the sewers and come at him through the shower head at any moment.

No. It had been those images that had kept entering his mind as he'd stood, bare naked, the water cascading over every part of him. Those images he pictured. Images of Vince stood in there with him. His slender body standing before him, massaging the soap against his already soft, porcelain skin, beneath the make-shift mini-waterfall, like an elegant Water Nymph. Where the hell had they came from?

Opening the bedroom door, Howard threw the towel into the wash basket. He then stopped in his tracks when he noticed that Vince was sat up on the bed, staring straight at him.

"Little man…you okay?" Howard asked, hoping to hide any sign of 'excitement' he'd carried in with him from the bathroom.

Vince's eyes were wider than usual. And his mouth a lot straighter.

"Where is she?" He asked in sharp, projected whisper.

Howard frowned; "Er. Who?"

"You know who." Vince's voice lacked any of the child-like curiosity and naivety that Howard was used to it. It chilled him more than his shower had done. "Tell me where she is before I stab you up with my eyeliner - and don't think I'm jokin' 'cause I ain't. I will kill you if I have to."

"Woah now! Hold it there, Monte Christo." Howard raised his palms up. A futile defense should Vince actually storm at him at any moment with a sharpened kohl pencil in hand. "Vince, this is me you're talking to you, yeah? You wouldn't wanna kill me, I've got so much to give."

"Then give her back to me!" Vince ordered, springing off the bed and to his feet.

Howard's mouth gaped; "Vince…your ankle…"

"I don't care." the injury didn't seem to affect him in the slightest, "You tell me where she is and you give her back to me. Now."

Howard didn't have a clue what was happening. Was this some side-affect from the poison? Was Vince possessed? He definitely wasn't the same sickly man-child that he'd left sleeping the room a quarter of an hour ago.

"Vince, listen to me, I dunno who you're talking about! And, whoever 'she' is, I'm not hiding her from you or whatever your scrambled brain is thinking. Just c-calm down, yeah-"

"GIVE ME BACK MY DAUGHTER!"

Howard's mind clicked into understanding in the same second that Vince launched himself at him in a flurry of fists aimed at Howard's chest. The maverick quickly grabbed Vince's wrists and tried to bring him out of his trance.

In spite of their difference in size, Vince was a lot harder to control than Howard suspected. With his hands held back by Howard's, he just resorted to kicking the older man's shins, his face snarling and growling like an enraged lion.

"Vince! Vince! Shh, stop it! You're just dreaming, little man, okay? You don't even have a daughter, she hasn't been born yet - just calm down. It's me; _Howard_, remember?"

Vince gasped. His body stilled.

He gazed up at his friend with that familiar look of innocent wonder. "How…Howard?"

The maverick sighed, nodding at him. Saying his own name was all it took to break the spell, luckily, as Howard couldn't think of a suitable crimp at mind.

"What 'appened? I…_Fuck_! My foot." Vince swooned painfully before Howard quickly caught him in his arms.

"Easy now. I've got you. C'mon," Howard lead the wounded mod back to the bed and placed him down before crouching down in front of him, putting a hand on his knee; "You alright now?"

Vince nodded, rubbing his eyes; "Mmm. Just a bit insane. I'll live."

Howard's eyes glanced down to Vince's leg. The silver line had risen above his knee-cap, the whole of his knee and foot having gone limp. Howard bit off the end of a fearful intake of breath.

"I saw her." said Vince, almost distantly.

"Who?" asked Howard, thankful for the distraction, meeting Vince's eyes as they stared off. "Ronnie?"

Vince nodded, his expression blank. Then, very slowly, a smile spread upon his lips. The same proud smile that Howard had seen in the picture of Vince and his little ones back in the Nursing Home.

"How d'you know it was her?" asked Howard.

"Dunno. I just _knew_. Y'know when you just _know _something. What's it called? Inflation?"

"Close enough." Howard smiled fondly.

"She's _so _beautiful." Hearing Vince speak so adoringly on someone else's appearance was another shock to add to Howard's list for that night, "I could see her playing in the garden. She was jumpin' up and down on the bouncy castle I bought you, 'aving a whale of a time. Her smile…Howard, she was so amazing!"

Howard gave Vince's hand a quick squeeze, glad that he was able to witness this once-in-a-lifetime moment when his narcissistic friend would be so humbled by the sight of his little girl. He could only assume that the pride welling in him was as close to the feeling overwhelming Vince at that moment.

Vince giggled to himself; "God, she kept on calling out to me. 'Watch me, Daddy! Watch me do a jimmy flip. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!' - does it ever get annoying when they keep chanting your name like that for attention?"

"I wouldn't know." Howard lied, stifling a smirk as memories involving inane questions, like whether bananas contained tarantula eggs, crept through his mind. "…But I don't think it does. Not really."

"'Felt so weird. Incredible but weird. Good weird." Vince's stunned smile began to fade; "But then…she stopped bouncing. She just sat there for a moment, calling out to me. I tried to speak but…y'know when you 'ave a dream and you open your mouth but nothin' comes out, it was like that. And then she started to cry. I just wanted to go over and give 'er a cuddle but…I couldn't move my feet…I tried to reach out to her but the whole scene just moved away from me." He finished, staring forlornly at his lap.

Howard rubbed his arm in what he hoped was a reassuring motion; "It was just a dream, Vince. You can't let it get you down, not now."

"That's just it though, Howard. It wasn't just a dream. 'Cause, she's still out there, isn't she?"

"What d'you mean?"

"She's just like us. 'Cause me and you were erased, she could never 'ave been born but she was already made. She already existed. And the Arbiter guy didn't destroy her body, 'e just took 'er out from Rachelle's tummy. She's lost somewhere, out there, I know she is. M'not sure 'ow it works, you know I only got a D for Celestial Physics at school."

"Well, I got an A* and I'm even stumped at understanding any of this."

"You got an E, you liar. You tried to copy off Raven Gillsburg and failed."

Howard's face flushed; "I thought she was a Witch so she'd be my best help."

"She weren't a Witch, she just _really _liked Enya and never wore deodorant. Not the same thing, you racist." Vince laughed lightly.

"At least you're smiling again." Howard noted.

"Mmmm," Vince mused, looking down at his lap again, keeping his smile. "Well if I can't keep myself 'appy then this _thing _is gonna get me, innet. Then what use am I to finding my little'en?"

"Spoken like a true dad." Howard encouraged.

Vince's eyes turned serious as they met his; "I am gonna find 'er, Howard. I know you don't believe me but she's out there, I know she is, in some form. I can still 'ear 'er, calling out to me."

"I believe whatever you believe, Vince." said Howard, resisting the urge to give into any niggling scepticism that could spoil the moment.

"Really?" Vince looked surprised.

"You always end up being right so there's no point fighting it."

"So…does that mean I'm right that jazz is the source of all evil in the world?" The mod grinned slyly.

Howard narrowed his eyes; "I didn't say you were _always _right."

"Yes. You did."

"…Shut up. Look, I'll go see how Naboo's doing, if he's got his plan into action yet," Howard quickly busied himself, standing up.

"And you'll ask about Veronica, won't ya?"

"Of course."

"And Howard?"

"Yes?"

Vince cocked his head to the side, eyes heavy lidded; "Can ya bring us back a hot chocolate, please?"

_The Tease-Merchant._ Howard thought to himself, ignoring the tingling sensation rushing over him as Vince looked at him like that, all sultry and heavy-lidded. He _knew _that there was nothing he could deny the little titbox.

* * *

"How could you lie to him?!" Howard berated the shaman before him.

"I didn't lie exactly. Just bent the truth a little bit." Naboo shrugged, continuing stirring the contents of the cauldron in front of him with a giant spoon.

They were stood at the far end of the living room, the sofa and furniture pushed back, as Naboo's large pewter cauldron took up most of the space where it was placed upon a contained wooden heater. Inside the cauldron was a thick, shining, yellow liquid that sparkled at the surface as it bubbled an inch below the brim.

"You said that _nothing _could get through that barrier. That a load of warriors from Hell couldn't get past it!"

"And they couldn't. But if the hordes of Hell where the strongest of soldiers than don't you think they'd 'ave taken over Heaven by now instead of a second-hand shop in Dalston?"

The strung out maverick ran his hands over his face; "So, eventually, the Arbiter's gonna be able to get through that if he gathers enough power? That could mean any second, Naboo!"

"Calm down, alright, and it doesn't mean that. Just past me that tub of mermaid scales."

Howard quickly grabbed the Tupperware container on the coffee table containing glittery turquoise disks and handing them over to the shaman. "What does it mean then?" he asked, eagerly.

"Basically yeah," Naboo explained whilst sprinkling a load of the scales onto the potion; "the Arbiter's magic, when he's outside the Court of Merit, works on what we call a Feed. You and Vince are his targets so his power is somehow linked to yours and Vince's subconscious'. Sadly, it ain't something you can control, but the stronger the both of you are then the weaker he is."

"Is that why Vince wasn't able to out-run the arrow - 'cause he was grieving for Leroy somewhat?"

Their supposed mutual friend had always been a tad closer to Vince, as was only natural, even more so in recent months with his own relationship with Vince unraveling.

"That's about it, yeah. Or, like Lance, 'e was just an idiot and couldn't pick 'is feet up."

"He's not an idiot!" Howard quickly defended. "Well….not as much as Lance soddin' Dior anyway."

"Look, Howard, the main thing at the moment to focus on is me makin' this for Vince before that Anti-Essence reaches his heart and turns him into spirit fodder. As long as you two don't do anything stupid then the barrier should hold up for more than long enough for me to finish this."

"And how long until your mates arrive to sort the Arbiter out?"

Naboo paused in his stirring; "…That's another problem. 'Cause of the barrier, the phone line has been cut off. All mortal connection to the outside world is gone."

"What about your crystal ball?"

"Forgot to pay this month's bill."

Howard slapped his face with his palm; "So what you're saying is - we're trapped in a house with a shield that could collapse at any moment and no one's coming to help us?!"

"You're a lot quicker than Harold, I'll give you that." Naboo replied, unfazed, merely carrying on with his task at hand. "Anything else you wanna know?"

The tired Northerner didn't really want to waste any more time on questions that would only bring depressing answers. He leant against the arm of the sofa and thought, for a second, he could hear a faint fizzling in the air around him, and a small tremor in the floor beneath him. As if someone was digging their way in from below. It filled him with dread but, remembering Naboo's words, he tried to keep his faith in the magical force field.

"Yeah, uhm…Vince wanted me to ask you something." He answered, dizzily; "In our timeline, see, he got this woman pregnant. And now he thinks that he can see the girl who was gonna be his daughter calling for him. He's wondering if it's possible that, like us, she could be out there somewhere. Like a…lost soul or something."

Naboo paused. This obviously was the last question he'd been expecting.

He looked up, frowning; "D'you say the kid hadn't been born yet?"

"Yeah. I think the woman had only just found out she was pregnant."

"…I've never heard of anything like that before. Normally if a person has kids or parents are expecting then they're immediately acquitted from the Arbiter. It doesn't make sense for why he'd hunt Vince like this, even if he's just really desperate to get to you."

_Great,_ thought Howard, _For the first time in my life I'm wanted for something and it had to be this!_

"And Vince's child?" he asked, "D'you think there's a way to…I dunno, bring her to life properly here, like we did?"

"I'm not sure," muttered Naboo, throwing what looked like a dead tarantula into the potions mix; "You two came through the Mirror of Fates. I dunno how anyone else could pass through, especially someone who wasn't even born before they were erased…You'll just have to tell Vince that I'll ask Dennis when this is all over."

The sound of a door carefully closing clicked from the corridor. Both shaman and maverick turned to see Bollo waddling around the corner.

Howard straightened up; "How's he doin'?"

"Precious One fall asleep while Bollo read him NME article on Kaiser Chiefs. He drink all hot chocolate and ask for mustached friend before he close eyes. But he full of happy smile."

"You better go and watch over him now." Naboo said to Howard, "Bollo, come over here and help me cut up these Martian parsnips."

Howard frowned down at the potion that smelt more like chicken soup; "You sure you know what you're doing Naboo?"

"Of course I do, I'm a trained sorcerer, I've been taught to make this sort of stuff in my sleep." Naboo replied, indignantly.

"Naboo learn from Jamie Oliver video." Bollo grunted as he began chopping up the red parsnips on the coffee table.

Howard huffed; "I wouldn't have thought Sainsbury's had a high demand for spirit antidotes."

"You'd be surprised." replied the busy shaman.

* * *

Leaving Naboo and his familiar to their job, Howard could do nothing else useful apart from drag himself back to the bedroom and keep an eye on his friend as he slept again. He quietly closed the door behind him and stood back against it, watching Vince laying, spread out, on the bed above the covers, one hand rested on the pillow beside his head whist the other lay on his stomach.

And there was the other question. The one that he constantly kept asking himself and no one, not even Naboo would've been able to sort out for him. As well as the ever-growing panic gripping his soul in that his best friend's life was at stake, he had to be cursed with this other conundrum also.

That conundrum being; what kind of person did it make him, in this situation of all times, to be able to look at his friend lying barely clothed on (essentially) his bed and be filled with a desire to crawl over him and slide his hands up his bare legs and under his borrowed shirt? What kind of upstanding Yorkshire man was he to see the hem of that Hawaiian shirt rise up and glimpse the concealed bulge in Vince's tight underpants and feel his own package jolt in excitement? And why was he only beginning to confess these things to himself just now when he'd been informed their lives were just as at risk than he'd thought before?

He gulped, shaking the disturbing, yet intoxicating, images from his mind and walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. He looked down at Vince's peaceful, quiet expression, his long eyelashes sweeping down over his china smooth cheekbones, his black hair displayed out beneath his head. He really was breathtaking, thought Howard as he reached out a hand to stroke Vince's cheek.

As his knuckles brushed the skin, Vince stilled for a second before leaning into Howard's touch as if recognizing him, purring contently. Howard's heart nearly flew out from his rib cage.

Gently pulling his hand away, so slow that the sleeping Vince was unable to really notice, Howard looked down at the legs laid out beside him. He looked at the silver line that was now paused between Vince's knee-cap and his hip. Howard steadied his breath, worry beginning to flood his sense again. Oh, what he'd give to shrink himself down again and go inside Vince to fight every cell or sprite of that poison inside of him. From the outside it seemed like such a benign affliction. A mere silver streak beneath his skin that caused slight pain and numbness as it spread. Stupid, really.

Howard shuffled closer and carefully put a hand out to touch his friend's leg. His fingertips brushed over the pencil thin mark that instantly began to sparkle beneath his touch.

Suddenly, his fingers began to burn. It was as if he'd touched a baking tray straight from the oven.

He tried to pull his hand back but it was too late. The dark magic zapped up his fingers, along the skin of his arm, straight to his eyes and into his brain, flooding his brain with a poorly produced montage of greyscale memories aimed to torture the mind and break the heart.

"_Don't touch me!"_

"_H'ward?" "Piss off!"_

"_Vince, what've I done?…It's all my fault."_

"_Don't touch me!"_

"_I've had enough of your abuse!"_

"_The Legendary Yeti." "How long will you need him for?"_

"_Don't touch me!"_

"_It's time, Vince. Time for you to offer yourself up to me!"_

"_You WANKERS."_

"_Don't touch me! Don't ever touch me again! Or look at me!"_

"_I thought you loved me?" "You'll meet someone else." "I'll never love again!"_

"_You are dead to me."_

"_Howard! Please…" "DON'T TOUCH ME!"_

"_You followed him around for over ten years like a sick puppy, trying to get his attention. Never worked though did it? You were never enough for him."_

"_It's not my fault! It's HIS! It's all HIS! HE SCREWS UP EVERY CHANCE HE GETS! HE THROWS BACK EVERYTHING I TRY AND GIVE HIM TO HELP HIM IN MY FACE!"_

"_You have lived without merit. And so you have not lived at all."_

"_I'd rather have someone who was of use to me rather than some self-obsessed, useless little idiot that's of no other use than to wind me up! What is the point of you, ey? EY?!"_

"_Y'know what, Howard? You'd make a great Arbiter."_

With the images searing through his mind, Howard was finally able to wrench his hand back and away from Vince's skin, breaking the chain. The pain along his arm quickly faded. The damage to his soul, on the other hand, had been far greater.

He turned to face away from Vince, not being able to stomach looking at the blissful sleeping figure for a moment longer. Panting heavily, he leaned forward, wringing his hands together in front of him as the smoldering guilt bubbled up inside of him as the potion in Naboo's cauldron had. Every callous word spoken, every condescending laugh, every moment of danger he'd placed the younger man in had flooded his memories. And even without all that to remind him, look at where they were now! Vince was dying. The poison was going to hit his heart and disintegrate his perfect body.

How he could he have let things get this far? Why couldn't he have just let Vince in instead of pushing and endangering him, treating him like he was disposable? His gorgeous Vince.

Tears began to leak from his eyes and onto his hands. Oh and now he was crying! Just how much more pathetic could he get? Once again, Vince needed him, and what was wrong with Howard? He was too absorbed in his own misery and weakness to be of any use whatsoever. But he couldn't help. He just felt so damned wretched. One hand slid up past his other, pushing up the sleeve and curling his fingers around the skin below his wrist. And, at last, Howard knew the reason why he did this. Why he was always so angry.

It wasn't the world. It wasn't his parents. It wasn't his rejection from society. It wasn't even Vince. It was himself. The only one he hurt was himself. To punish himself for the cosmic mess **he'd **made of things. It was no one's fault but _his_.

A loud sob shuddering out of his system made the sleeping Vince stir. The electro boy rubbed his eyes before leaning up on his elbows, blinking groggily towards the hunched over form at the end of his bed, with his back to him.

"Howard?" he asked carefully.

Howard didn't reply, squinting his eyes as more tears slipped from under them and fell down his face, thinking that if he met Vince's eyes then he'd combust. His arm was still gripped firmly in his other hand, no longer twisting the skin to it's limits, but merely digging his nails in as deep as possible.

"Shit, Howard, what're you doing?" Vince forced himself to fully wake, sitting up and shuffling over to the bigger man, placing his hands on his broad shoulders. "Howard, please, look at me. Tell me what's wrong. You need to tell me! I can't help you unless you do."

Vince's voice had reverted to as it was when he was convinced Howard was hiding his daughter. Steady. Mature. Focused. Yet also, soft and full of concern.

Howard shook his head, biting down on his lip. "How…c-can you wanna help me? After everything I've _done _to you! Fuck, Vince…how can you even wanna be near me?!"

"Why d'you think, silly?" Vince replied, stroking a hand down Howard's cheek. "You're my Howard. I can't live without you, can I?"

"B-but…you've nearly died at times 'c-cause of me!…Look what I've done to you!" Howard sobbed, turning to face Vince at last, putting a hand up to stroke the bruise beneath his eye. Vince winced slightly but didn't move back. "God…you really must love me…I dragged you into this mess again and look what it's done to you?!" He placed his hand back to the reddening nail marks on his arm.

Vince quickly grabbed his wrist; "Don't you fucking dare, Moon. And don't even _think _about saying I shouldn't have been here. You idiot, Howard, you didn't really think you could have the whole adventure without me, did you? We're a double act, you twit. That means we fight everything together. As one whole person, remember?"

"You…y-you could do so much better without me…I dunno why you haven't left me for good, already, 'cause I'm just the worst person to be around. I don't even deserve to be alive…"

Any trace of Howard's resolve shattered completely as he broke down before his friend.

Vince sighed his heart wrenching, reaching his hands up to Howard's bowed head and running his fingers through his curls; "Shhh. C'mere," he whispered, and he drew Howard into his arms as he sat back against the headboard. He stroked his hair, neck, back and arms as the defeated maverick cried heavily into his chest.

Normally when Howard was this upset, he would have to be either drunk or over-tired to allow Vince to hold him and rock him like this. In this moment, however, he simply didn't have either the strength or the ego to push away Vince's nurturing again. He wanted Vince to wrap him up protectively and never let him go even if it meant taking him with him in death.

Vince rested his chin atop Howard's head as he petted it after planting a gentle kiss on his forehead; "I'll never leave you, you big Northern plonker. I've tried before, haven't I and where do I always end up? It's 'cause I know that, no matter how much of a twat you can be, it's the not the real you. Even when you push me to the edge and, bloody 'ell H'ward, you ain't 'alf done that enough times. I stick around 'cause I'm not gonna be like everyone else. I'm not gonna give up on you. You're so much more than this person you _try_ to be to prove ya'self to the world - the same way you stick with me 'cause you say I'm more than just an electro bitch or whatever. You don't need to try to be anyone, Howard, when're you gonna see that? Remember - it's what's inside that counts. **You **taught me that."

Howard sniffed, nuzzling his nose against the thin fabric of Vince's (or his) shirt; "You shouldn't listen to anything I say…"

"Well, true, you do speak a lot of crap." Vince chuckled lightly, holding Howard tightly; "But it still makes more sense than whatever I normally come out with. And you're still Britain's leading cream poet, aren't ya? You've taught and shown me things I'd never thought I'd get to see, considerin' where I started off. So don't you go letting that jerk-off make you think you're worthless 'cause where would I be without you, ey? Probably dead already so don't you _dare_…" He bit his lip and rested his head on his side on top of Howard's.

The pair stayed locked in that embrace until time escaped them. Howard's sobs had settled into faint snuffling and weeping. Vince's hands remained stroking over his hair and back.

And that's all it was about at first. Comfort. Holding on together at the end of their world.

Vince raised his head, allowing Howard to do the same, though he stayed curled on Vince's lap, holding onto his slim waist. Then Howard felt the air move like smoke as Vince's eyes met his, two small hands coming up to wipe away the last few tears clinging to his cheeks.

"Oh, Howard…" said Vince exasperated, his warm breath caressing Howard's face; "You don't deserve to be made to feel like this. I don't care what you've done. I _know _you. I love you. And you. Do. Not. Deserve. This-" Each word was separated by a tender kiss to the older man's forehead and cheeks.

Howard moved his lips up so quickly that Vince didn't have time to be surprised as they crushed against his own. He sat up, Vince's hands cradling his own whilst his hands held tightly onto Vince's middle. Vince reacted immediately, his soft lips pressing against Howard's, his tongue dancing against it's partner. Thunderbolts shot through Howard's blood stream as he pressed his body further against Vince's, his actions suddenly full of _need_ and _now! _He could feel Vince's pulse racing against his face where his hands were holding him close with no intention of letting him fall away again.

The kiss stilled for a brief moment, a pause of certainty as their eyes met, sleepy but determined. Maverick nor Mod really sure of what was happening though not intending whatsoever to stop it, and then their lips quickly reconnected, in a kiss that would be far more messy and desperate, riding the rush that was swallowing them whole.

They were dreaming.

They were dying.

No. It was neither. They were waking up to what could well be their last day. Together.

They were living.

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**I apologize for that cheesy ending to the chapter there :P Warning that the next part will contain explicit slash so I may have to up the rating to M. Reviews are, as usual, love.**


	16. Our Eclipse

**This chapter is mainly explicit slash. It's the first time I've ever wrote anything like it so I'm a bit nervous, please tell me what you think. I've upped the rating as well. For anyone who's a bit squicked by this sort of thing then skip to the end after the three dots separating it, the rest of the story will still make sense without reading it.  
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**Disclaimer: Not Mine.  
**

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Howard had daydreamed about this moment so many times in the past, until he'd realized that he was dreaming about something that was never, in his reality, ever going to happen. So it was of the most delicious irony that it had happened in an entirely different reality, a parallel timeline in a world where their lack of existences meant they had so little to lose. And the dreams had been abandoned, firstly for lack of hope, secondly for the crushing reminder of how wrong they were. Him and Vince. Like that. The dreams were not only abandoned but disowned, cast into callous denial and buried deep where no one, not even Howard, could try to reach easily.

But now they'd been thrown into an upside down dimension and he was kissing Vince. It wasn't a one-sided, messy snog on rooftop but a proper, loving kiss between two people. He could feel Vince's arousal pressing against his thigh and, suddenly, the world began to crash in on him. He closed his eyes, a tiny shocked whimper escaping his lips as they tentatively pulled away from Vince's.

In the dark, he opened his eyes slightly to see just how close Vince's face was to him and he could make out the concern and patience shining amongst the ocean blue in his eyes. His hands were still cradling Howard's bottom jaw, his thumbs smoothing over the maverick's faint morning stubble.

"Hey…" Vince breathed, elated yet tolerant, "…You 'kay there?"

"I…Yeah, I'm…m'fine…" Howard stammered, any trace of coherent thought now a struggle to find in such a surreal and life-altering moment. "I…I'm just a bit…"

Vince's lips stretched to show his pearly whites in a giddy, dazed grin; "I know. I'm a bit…as well. But," his voice then switched back to the passive, understanding tone from earlier; "…we don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Howard shook his head, looking down; "No, god, Vince…I want to. I really want to. It's just…I dunno how to do this. Not 'properly' anyway. All I know is…"

And then, all of a sudden, every feeling of euphoria and lusting confidence was crushed as another wave of memories flooded Howard's head. These didn't need the reminder from some magical curse. They'd been burned into Howard's psyche and had been preparing, waiting, for months and years to unleash themselves when the moment arrived to ruin any chance of true happiness Howard was lucky enough to grab hold of. Memories of desperate, sordid, cockney men using him for whatever means they wished as a mere 'service'; a toy to use and abuse as they wished. Some from, not all too long ago, when he'd been forced to return to his old skills for just one night with the infamous Eleanor.

That was all he knew of sex. Of so-called 'making love'. To him it was something depraved and violent. He didn't understand intimacy, not having been raised by a philandering Ice Queen and a chauvinistic ex Army soldier who barely spoke a word to each other unless it was to growl and bark like savage wolves or complain to the other about their embarrassing weakling of a son. But Howard wasn't ignorant. He'd seen films, read poetry and watched besotted couples, from a distance, giggling and caressing each other as his heart crumbled with jealousy. Especially if one of those couples was Vince in one of his few fleeting attempts at a relationship over the years. He knew that 'love' existed. He could look at Vince and know it in a second. It was just expressing it that was his problem.

And now, tonight, he'd taken, not just a delicate step, but an almighty leap over the line of physical boundaries he'd set up between the two of them to show his true feelings. He'd made the first move and now it was hauling itself into something far greater and far, far scarier than anything Howard had experienced before.

He felt Vince's hands tilt his chin up, forcing him to look straight at the other man.

"Oi," he cajoled softly, brushing his knuckles gently over Howard's cheek; "This is me, yeah. And you're not scared of a little thing like me, are ya?"

But he was. He didn't want to admit it but - fuck - he was. His expression clearly betrayed this.

"Oh, Howard." Vince sighed, tucking a loose chocolate curl behind his friend's ear, "I…I know I've been over-doing the whole 'tough love' thing. I know, sometimes, I've been a complete bitch and made you feel just as bad as how I've felt in the past - and I'm sorry. It was never meant to go that far. Please don't think I'd ever really want to hurt you-"

"No, no, shh," Howard cut him off, raising a hand to place his fingers over Vince's soft lips, silencing him. He smiled lightly at the Mod's adorable confusion; "You don't get it. I'm not scared of what you could do to me. I know you love me, Vince, I'm sorry I didn't believe you the first time all those years ago…I know now. I'm just, as you've said, a bit mentally slow."

Vince smiled beneath Howard's fingers and gently kissed the tips, taking a light hold of his wrist. He then placed Howard's hand to his cheek and leaned into the touch, gazing adoringly across at the other man's face.

"And y'know I'm never gonna let anyone mess you about again, don't you. I know I let you down with Eleanor that time, and m'sorry, but every other time should let you know I'd sooner die than-"

"I know, I know. That's why I'm not scared about that."

"What's wrong then, sweetheart?" the affection in his voice nearly melted Howard again.

"It's just…it's you, isn't it. You're _Vince! _Vince Noir…"

"Am I, really? And all this time I thought I was Roger Black." Vince mocked, breaking into a grin.

Howard was unable to resist his contagious laughter and quickly loosened, laughing with Vince, leaning their foreheads, their noses brushing together. The joyful ring of Vince's laughter was so magical to Howard's ears that it made him feel surrounded by fairies of light and glitter. He could feel his body begin to stir with eagerness once again, wanting so much to be kissing Vince again, wrap his arms around him, have their warm bodies pressing back together.

But, to him, Vince was still like a Siren. A striking demi-god luring him in with his alluring, near faultless good looks and low, beckoning voice. And Howard was just a vulnerable, helpless mortal who, just by wanting him, made him feel so humiliatingly out of his depth. Even though Vince was the one with the injuries and bruises, Howard was the defiled one and Vince was clean. Perfect.

He pulled back an inch to let his eyes drink in the face of the man before him. His palm felt the smooth, porcelain clear skin of Vince's cheek. Without losing another second, Howard leaned in to press his lips against Vince's once more before slowly pulling back from the soft but meaningful peck.

"…I don't wanna fail you." he admitted, feeling so very bare once the words left his mouth.

Vince smiled almost playfully; "I'm not your A levels."

"I know but…Look, I dunno what I'm meant to do. I know you ain't a tart or anything I've accused you of before, Vince, but I know you've had much more experience than I have. I just know I'm gonna end up disappointing you…"

Howard could feel Vince's eyes scanning over him, even though he'd looked away, his cheeks flushing scarlet. Then he felt a pair of lips press themselves to the space of bare skin between his shoulder and his neck, a jolt rush through his groin as he felt his blood simmer to the surface of that spot as Vince absorbed through his mouth and nose Howard's smell and taste. His teeth tapped against the skin as the love bite intensified and Howard's eyes rolled back slightly, unable to stop his hips from making a slight buck of excitement.

With Howard's mouth open in a hushed gasp, Vince pulled his head back up to look at the flushed maverick; "You're right. I do have a bit more experience. And yeah, some of it 'as been pretty amazing', 'ence why I go lookin' for it. People love me, maybe not for the right reasons, but they think they do so they try and give me a reason to love them back. Never works though…it's just nice to be held…to feel _appreciated _for a bit." Howard felt a pang of guilt but let Vince continue; "I ain't stupid, I wouldn't go lookin' to get myself messed up. But…I've still 'ad some nights that I'd rather forget, that ain't been so 'special'. And not even 'cause the sex itself weren't that great. But I've 'ad enough to know the difference between makin' love and a quick, rough shag with no meanin' whatsoever."

Howard gulped; "See…I don't."

Vince gave him a happy-sad smile and leaned in to kiss his nose; "..You don't need to. You don't have to _prove _anything, remember? You don't have to know the difference. 'Cause I'm gonna show you."

Howard suddenly felt like a vulnerable rabbit caught in the sight of a hungry fox, his precious boundaries and defenses now lying in rubble, with Vince free to charge at him at any moment. There was no charging to be done though. Vince's next movements were slow and trusting, one hand moving to the hem of Howard's jumper and sliding up to stroke the bare flesh of his sides, stimulating shivers and goosebumps from the older man's skin. He soon melted when Vince's lips crushed back against his in an intense kiss of tightly guarded passion kept safe between the two lovers.

As Howard allowed his tongue to explore Vince's mouth, he felt the younger man's hand slide down from his waist and into the band of his underwear, his fingers grabbing a fistful of Howard. Instead of leaping back in fear as his instincts commanded, he decided to drink that steaming hot cup of rules and just lean in more to the kiss, bringing a hand up to the back of Vince's head, his fingers curling into the soft ebony strands. He heard Vince hum pleasurably against his lips and Howard truly wished they could stay in that moment forever, never aging, never endangered - forever pure, healthy and together.

Keeping one hand to Vince's head, Howard moved the other down to let his fingers fiddle with the collar of his shirt on Vince. Tensing slightly, he undid the highest button and Vince stilled the kiss, for a moment, to meet Howard's gaze with enticed, almost surprised, eyes. They shared a quick look of confirmation, Vince making sure that Howard was ready and Howard making sure he wasn't deluding himself again, before the kiss continued, somewhat gentler as their focus's deterred to other regions.

Howard finished unhooking the last few buttons and slid his hand under the loosened fabric to run his palm over Vince's torso, his fingers hovering over the few raised hairs on the middle of his chest, before he let two fingers pinch one erect nipple, causing Vince to release a small moan before Howard's hand then moved up to a bony shoulder, his fingers tightening on their new perch.

As his own movements slowed, their lips parting, Vince suddenly took the initiative for both of them and put his hands to Howard's sides to switch their positions. He closed his eyes and let Vince move him where he wished; after all, he was the one who knew what he was doing. And he trusted him. With his very soul.

He opened his eyes to find that he was now on his back with the younger man on top, straddling him, his dark hair falling in a protective black circular curtain around them, sealing them off in their own private world outside of the old one, where they couldn't be touched. A world without a time limit on their lives making them hurry to cheapen the moment.

Howard looked up at the man leaning over him, his breath hitching as he saw that old familiar sparkle of reverence in Vince's eyes as he looked down at him as if he'd fallen straight from heaven.

"I've never told you how beautiful I think you are, have I?" Howard whispered, raising his fingers to stroke the bridge of his sharp nose.

"'Snot exactly what we do, is it?" Vince said whistfully.

"That's gonna change now. I'm make sure you know, every day, just how special you are to me, Vince Noir. I promise."

"Is that right? Well…'spose it won't hurt me to return the favour, will it? Starting right now."

Vince's lips fell down and onto the base of Howard's neck, showering him with brief yet wet kisses all along his collarbone. His pulse racing, Howard could just lay there, shuddering, whimpering as his heartbeat quickened five fold with each open-mouthed kiss placed along his bare neck. It wasn't enough. He wanted Vince's kisses raining down upon his body.

And in that magical, almost intrusive, yet god-given gift that Vince possessed of always being able to read Howard like a book, the electro boy's hands moved to tug the hem of Howard….or rather Harold's jumper. Howard sat up slightly, his and Vince's legs still tangled together, holding up his arms to allow Vince to take the green monstrosity off him. The sweatshirt cast aside, out of their little bubble with the rest of the rubbish, Howard was sat with his chest fully exposed for Vince to ravish.

Before he could do that, he put his hands back to Vince's open shirt and released him from it hurriedly. His actions were so impatient that, after the shirt was lying crumpled on the floor with Howard's, Vince gently pushed him back onto the pillows.

He caressed Howard's cheek, shushing him like a child; "It's not a race, baby. Ok? Settle down now. Trust me. We - have - all - the - time - in - the world."

With each moist and precious kiss that fell down upon his nape, shoulders and chest, Howard could only hear his moans hitch into high-pitched mewls as the stirring in his groin intensified. He saw over the shoulder the slim, feline-esque body of the man who's lips were worshiping him like a king and couldn't resist running his hands over to try and contain him somewhat as the lips moved downwards, the last few kisses making somewhat of a pattern around his belly button.

But he was wrong. They didn't have all the time in the world. Or did they? Did Vince hear what Naboo had just told him in the living room moments ago? As long as helped keep the barrier up; they were safe. As long as they didn't do anything stupid. And Howard was sure, more than he was of the number of residents in Paperclip Castle, that this was the least stupid thing he and Vince had ever done.

His excitement suddenly made an attempt for freedom from his boxers. He looked down to see Vince tracing his finger over the bulge in his trousers. He then looked up to Howard, the glint in his eyes devilish. "Think someone wants to come out and play."

"V-Vince…"

"Shhh," he whispered, pressing his hand against the fabric, causing the exact opposite of calming Howard down, "I love you. I'm gonna take good care of you. I promise."

But Howard could barely hear him over the blood roaring in his ears as the frustration became unbearable. True to his word, Vince quickly began to see to Howard's problem, unzipping and releasing him of the beige garments. His boxers were next. Then, all Howard knew was that he was lying, naked as Adam in Eden, before the love of his life. And, to his utmost surprise, he wasn't the least bit terrified.

Vince leaned down to press his lips against the base of Howard's shaft before slowly, sensually, moving his tongue up the length to the trembling tip, closing his eyes at the pleasure of hearing Howard groan and cry out as he worked, bedsheets scrunched in his hands.

"Oh God! Oh…_Vince_…!"

Leaving Howard's erection wanting, Vince moved to adoring the area around Howard's groin and along his upper thighs with his mouth, teeth and tongue. Each kiss and nip lifted him higher and higher towards heaven's burning rays. How could he have faught this off? All those years of being wanted, of what he could've had…but maybe that was the point. Maybe it had been building to this moment. Nothing in Howard's life had ever felt so deserved.

He felt Vince's lips work their way back up his body again, Howard gently handling Vince's slender arms as he moved up, all he could hold to as his body writhed beneath the smaller man, his hardness knocking against the crook of Vince's groin as he felt a pair of teeth nibble his ear. How was it that he always seemed to know _everything_?

"Please…Vince, god…._please_…I want you. All of you….Please." He begged, Vince's tongue running along the hallow of his throat.

He placed one clawed hand to Vince's back and kissed the base of his neck needily, repeating against along his shoulders, and soon he could feel and hear Vince shuddering against him as he began to get a taste of his own medicine, the feel of Howard's teeth against his supple flesh.

The smaller man slowly sat up, his hair cascading down along his shoulders cinematically. "Come here."

Howard obeyed, sitting up also and pressing himself against the other man's body. It was strange how, in Howard's daydreams, it had always been him taking the lead. Him. The great man of action. What an ironic twist that it was Vince - simple, effeminate, naïve Vince - taking control. And yet the role fitted Vince perfectly like a glove, with his years of experience in having to bring the pompous Howard back down to Earth, and the fact that Howard always felt safe in his presence.

Feeling the need to take _some _significance, Howard cupped the back of Vince's hair and applied his open mouth to the smaller man's exposed throat, using everything he'd taken in from how Vince was with him, healing his tender bruises with his lips. He heard Vince gasp, his back arching forwards slightly, before wrapping his arms as far as he could around Howard's larger body, one hand stretching up to tangle his fingers amongst his curls. Vince's head lolled back as Howard's lips drank in every sweet taste of the younger man, his mouth then moving further down his chest, to the nipple he'd barely touched earlier. This time he lapped his tongue against it before catching it, none to hard, between his teeth, causing Vince to cry out.

"OH! Fuck…Oh, god, I love you…I love you…" Vince exhaled, stroking the other man's head below his chin.

But Howard wasn't finished yet. After lifting his head up to let his lips meet with Vince's again, he reached one hand down and slipped under the band of Vince's pants, pushing them down slightly, taking a feel of the man himself. Vince released a cry against his lips and Howard decided to return the favour from earlier, freeing Vince of the ridiculously tight briefs in a swift yet elegant motion. His tongue still lapping against the other man's, he moved his hand to take a hold of Vince's length.

Taking lessons from his years in the gutter, Howard set to work on what he'd been best at, though this time not rushing to get it over and done with for the sake of money. His hands movements were slow to savour the moment and his touch meaningful as he applied enough pressure to cause Vince to spasm, his mouth moaning into Howard's.

Everything about what they were doing defied Howard's pre-conceived notions about what sex was. The love and passion coursing through his arteries, affecting every move he made on the other man, were feelings he never thought would occur during such an act. But there was no shame, guilt or hurt that he also associated with sex before. This wasn't sex. This was Howard Moon and Vince Noir; making sweet, beautiful love together.

They rocked their hips against each other for a little while longer, kissing, nipping, caressing, groping and throbbing until it suddenly occurred to Howard how close he felt to reaching his limit already. It seemed far too soon. He let out a murmur, surely there was so much left to be done.

Vince's lips brushed against his ear; "Just gimmie a sec…"

His own brow crinkled in confusion but he shuffled back to allow Vince the space to move off the bed, not venturing too far, only to rummage in the pockets of his departed jeans to find a small tube. The other man, as well as being too dazed to ask, could only assume that Vince's reason for carrying such a thing on him had the same explanation as the dozens of multi-purpose mirrors he could pull out at any time - you never know when the vital moment will arise. He then came back and sat in his spot in front of Howard.

"I need you to lie back for me now, gorgeous." said Vince tenderly.

The fear and vulnerability came crashing back to Howard like a tidal wave as he watched Vince apply some of the tube's contents to his fingers. Biting his lip to quell his nerves, his did as he was told and settled back amongst the pillows, reminding himself that he had nothing to fret about if he was in Vince's loving hands.

The younger man leaned down to place a kiss above Howard's abdomen before looking up at him and Howard was surprised, yet strangely comforted, to see that, betrayed in those large blue eyes, was just as much anxiety and worry of where they were headed as was in him. Only neither of them were letting their fears control them any longer.

Vince caressed his other hand down Howard's upper thigh, gently parting his legs; "You tell me to stop if it gets too much, 'kay?"

"…Kay." Howard replied, his voice breaking with uncertainty.

Luckily, Vince didn't change his mind, trusting in the maverick's desires. He moved his hand further between Howard's legs until the tip of one finger taps against his entrance. Howard braced himself, grabbing a fistful of the covers as Vince carefully moved one finger into him. His body bucked a little at the somewhat alien touch but calmed as Vince's lips fell onto his, his tongue sliding into his mouth the same as his finger did into his arse. It didn't hurt. It _ached _but it didn't hurt.

All Howard could do was return Vince's kiss, his hands clutching onto him as he tried to get used to the awkward feeling if it meant having Vince inside of him. As soon as he began to feel somewhat familiar with it, Vince added a second slippery finger past his entrance, and his back arched. Vince ran his hands over his forehead and through his hair, shushing and whispering sweet endearments to sooth him. Then, after that second shock to the system, Howard started to feel his hole stretch and relax around Vince as a warm sensation drenched him. Vince studied him with eyes of awe and veneration and for the first time in Howard's life, he understood what Vince meant about being made to feel appreciated. Worshipped. And as one of Vince's digits crooked to rub against his prostate, Howard cried out in a pleasure so divine and out of this world that he didn't feel like a mere mortal anymore. For one shining moment; he was a god.

His throbbing dick twitched almost in mourning as Vince swiftly removed his fingers from the now prepared Howard, leaning over to kiss the other man's brow. He laid there, his hole now aching for the return of Vince's body. More.

"You alright?" Vince asked again, resting his weight fully on top of Howard after preparing himself.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine.." Howard panted impatiently, though his heart bloomed at how much care Vince was taking with him, in sharp contrast to every way he'd been handled in the past.

"M'just making sure. Wouldn't ever want you to regret this later."

"Oh, little man. I could never…ever regret this." he whispered, raising a hand to brush his sticky fringe from his clammy forehead, "I want you…now and forever…"

That final promise of eternity was enough to make Vince go the final step for both of them. He smiled, dizzily, leaning down to kiss the older man as he very slowly, carefully, moved himself into Howard, connecting them as the two pieces of a jigsaw that they'd always compared themselves to. Electricity swept through Howard's system, not of the volatile cursing kind but something both heavenly and _human _that made all shamanistic magic seem blank and dull in comparison. The breath was caught in his throat and he froze, caught between immense pleasure and intolerable pain, a lover's limbo.

Vince took one of his hands in his, their fingers linked together, his other holding onto the older man's raised hips. Howard smiled at the contrast in their hands, large against small, rough skin against smooth, easily tanned against marble white. Howard kissed their fingers as Vince moved slowly further into him. Howard could feel every part of him above him and it was as if they'd been made to connect as this one person, their souls colliding as well as their bodies. They knew each other better than they knew themselves. It was as if he was Vince and Vince was him and the thought of separating into two separate, lonely beings was unfathomable.

Howard rocked his hips up against Vince as the other man pulled back slowly onto to thrust in again, in a cruel, pleasurable game that almost pushed him to the edge. He kissed Vince as if he was a drowning man and his best friend was his oxygen. Which, when he thought about it, was the way it had always been. Vince was his lifeline, his saviour and, from where he could see now, his angel.

"I love you, Howard," Vince whispered against him for the god-knows how many time that night, still moving within him. Howard didn't think he could ever get bored of hearing those three words. He held Vince's hair, loving the feel of his precious mane beneath his own hand, pulling him down into a searing kiss, so long and so hard. It wasn't until Howard had to gasp to draw air back into his lungs that he'd realized how long he'd held his breath for.

"I love you. Always. Only you." Vince said again, re-aligning his hips to hit that certain spot that caused the maverick to writhe and scream his name.

Howard barely heard Vince or himself. He could hardly stand the heat coursing through him, his insides like a furnace, melting him from the inside out. He bucked his hips up against Vince, whining shamelessly, wanting to draw himself out for as long as possible yet desperate for the bubbling tension in his body to be released in some way, somehow. "Touch me," he pleaded.

Vince's hand stroked its way from cupping Howard's arse to finding his pulsating cock, hard as crystal, pressing against his stomach. His long fingers curled around it and began to move in time with his own increasing thrusts. Howard knocked his head back against the headboard, thankful for the sharp pain as a brief release as his and Vince's movements ascended fast and needily into blissful chaos. He felt something deep inside him coil tighter and tighter like a key in a wind-up toy. His throat exposed, Vince caught it in his teeth as the famed Shoreditch vampire and Howard dug his nails into his shoulder blades.

He knew he wasn't gonna last much longer so he shut his eyes, growling inwardly, tensing himself with all his might to stop it from being over. That was until Vince's thumb stroked over his cheeks.

"Open your eyes. Look at me, it's okay," he permitted in a husky whisper.

For some reason, once Vince said it was alright to give in, Howard felt it impossible to disobey. This was it. He was well and truly Vince's. But then again, he was the one who had Vince deep inside _him_. So they were just as much each others. They belonged to one another. With that, Howard's eyes sprung open, ready to break.

He was then thankful for Vince's instruction as it meant he got to see those sky-blue irises looking down on him, as well as the sweat glistening on his beautiful naked body, almost as if the boy's skin was shining in the early morning glow of the dawn, his damp strands of hair dripping like running ink to frame his face. Howard shuddered a gasp, taking the perfect image with him as he soared up towards ecstasy.

"Hello there…handsome…" Vince panted with an extra thrust, his eyes flashing like tiny suns. And that was all it took.

"V…Vi…_VINCE_."

He didn't shatter. Instead his body became a fireworks display, igniting in a dazzling rocket bursting into a shower of silver lights that rained beautifully downwards, several Catherine wheels following in its wake. Flustered and sweating, he stared up at Vince, stunned, giving himself over completely to this new sensation. And Vince was watching him, grinning with moisture on his skin and tears in his eyes, proud as punch.

As ever the more endurable of the pair, Vince managed to hold out for a little while longer, helping Howard to ride out his orgasm as he shuddered and compressed beneath his spasm, eyelids flickering as stars going into supernova blinded his vision. Then, soon enough, Vince widened his already unearthly large eyes to epic proportions and practically shrieked his release.

And suddenly the brazen and sultry Vince Noir became as weak and tired as a newborn kitten, swooning down and collapsing onto Howard.

Wheezing heavily, Howard looked down to the equally breathless creature lying limp on his chest, one arm falling over his side. He smiled, raising a hand to stroke his jet-black hair. The poor little man had worked himself to full bodily exhaustion - just to make him feel what real love was. And he'd succeeded.

Taking a better hold of his new lover, Howard positioned him so he was in a comfier spot beside him, settling him down in the crook of his armpit. Vince murmured something inaudible in his semi-conscious daze and Howard leaned down to kiss his forehead;

"Th…thank you…"

"Don't need to thank me, ya bu…bumbaclark." Vince yawned heavily, holding onto Howard like he was his salvation, "I love you."

"I love you too. Let's never leave each other again…"

Vince stirred, snuggling contently into Howard's side, wrapping one arm over his chest. "Mmm…Never. Promise."

He placed a sleepy kiss to a spot of flesh beside Howard's nipple, then rested his head back down, quickly drifting off to sleep. With the small, beautiful body held tightly in his arms, Howard closed his eyes to join his friend in a heavenly slumber.

* * *

Howard was the last to fall asleep and the first to wake after an hour and a half. He opened his eyes and looked in down in disbelief at the glowing form of his best friend curled into him.

It had happened. It _really _had happened.

They were still sticky and messy and Vince's hair was splayed out over Howard's chest but he didn't care. They'd made love. And it had been so different, yet ten times better, than he'd ever dared to imagine.

Vince's head was tucked beneath his skin, one hand falling over Howard's singing heart. The love he felt for the smaller man as he watched him sleep, his warm body pressed against his own, was nearly too much for Howard to wake up to on a Saturday morning.

Only this wasn't any Saturday morning.

Suddenly remembering the events of the night before, leading up to that unbelievable moment, Howard allowed himself to steal a couple more minutes holding Vince before slowly, carefully, untangling himself from his friend's arms. As Howard attempted to move off the bed, a hand reached out and grabbed his wrist, chaining him to the sleeping yet all-knowing electro boy. He smiled down at him, though understood he wouldn't be able to move as he needed to with Vince clinging to him. He leant down, ignoring the ache in his backside, to the pile of clothes lying amongst the floor and picked up the Hawaiin shirt he'd been wearing earlier and let his friend wear, placing it in Vince's arms. His diabolical scheme worked and Vince released his hold and held the shirt to him, nuzzling his nose against the fabric and mewling happily.

Howard shook his head fondly before grabbing some face-wipes from Lance Dior's make-up and hair products strewn desk and cleaning himself off somewhat, trying not to wake the younger man as he wiped him off also. After wiping off Vince's groin, Howard was reminded of the poison inside his friend's body, by the sight of the silver line that hadn't seemed to have moved a millimetre since the last time he'd examined it.

He'd completely forgotten about Vince's affliction. No wonder he so wiped. Howard pulled the duvet up and tucked it over him. He almost felt guilty for being so clueless in the situation that Vince had been the one doing most of the work. Still, he wouldn't have changed one second of what happened or how it did. And Vince was still smiling against his shirt, that must've meant something.

Running a hand through Vince's dishevelled locks, he leaned down to kiss his lips lightly, whispering his feelings into his mouth, thankful to the god he didn't believe in that Vince was still with him.

If they could just repeat that perfect moment until Naboo's cure was ready, then they'd be fine, Howard grinned cheekily to himself. That sounded like a good plan, yes sir.

After kissing Vince's nose, Howard straightened up with the used face-wipes in hand and moved over to the waste-basket at the other end of the room to drop them in. His clothes, or rather Harold's clothes, had also ended up at some point during the chaos having been flung across the space. Howard reluctantly decided to get himself dressed. As much as he would've loved a second round, he knew this wasn't the time and he doubted Vince was up for more anyway. He'd only done up his trousers, his torso still bare, when he heard a shuffling on the bed behind him.

"Decided to join us then at last." He chided jovially with his back still to the younger man as he picked up his green jumper.

"Yes. You'll forgive me for being late, won't you?"

The jumper fell from his limp fingers as his own voice teased him from behind.

Howard turned around, his heart leaping into his throat. He almost screamed.

The unmade bed was empty, apart from his ugly shirt laying discarded on the pillows.

Vince was gone.

Standing beside the bed, filling Howard with a haunting sense of de ja vue as he hovered enigmatically in the room, was the Arbiter.

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***cue EastEnders-like drums* Reviews would be MUCH appreciated :)**


	17. A Little Death

**Thanks for the reviews on my last chapter, they really mean a lot. I can't apologize for the cliff-hanger though because this one's just as bad :P Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.  
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Howard grabbed for the nearest blunt object in his vicinity, holding it with both hands atop his head, his face fuming; "Where is Vince?! What have you done to him?! Don't try and mess with me - I'm armed!"

"So I see." the Arbiter chuckled, quite uncharacteristically. "You plan to fight for your friend's life, do you?"

"If I have to, sir."

"…With a trumpet?"

Howard looked to the object he had actually grabbed and gulped; "Er…Yes! And I'm not afraid to unleash its power onto you if you force me to!"

"I think you are. That's quite an expensive trumpet you've got there." The Arbiter tested, folding his cloaked arms.

"Well, yeah….it is, as it happens." Howard began to falter. _No, it's not yours! It's Harold sodding Boon's remember? _He shook his head out of the distracted haze, holding the trumpet high; "I don't care! Tell me what you've done with Vince or prepare for a heavy shower of pain from Monsoon Moon - _Pow!"_

The Arbiter cleared his throat; "Indeed. But as terrifying an experience as this is for me, you really should be aware by now of the catastrophic power I can unleash upon you at any moment."

"Catastrophic power?" Howard scoffed, "You couldn't even get through our front door! A Jehovah's Witness could do a better job than you."

"And yet - here I am."

"…Oh yeah," Howard deadpanned, dropping the trumpet to his feet. "B-but how _did _you get in here?! Naboo said the barrier would hold - this is impossible!"

Panic began to squash every surge of heroism he'd somehow managed to gain for the second before. It just didn't make any sense. One moment he was the happiest man in the world, and the next; Vince was missing and the most dangerous enemy Howard had come across - with the possible exception of the Student Loans collectors - was standing once again in his bedroom, his and Vince's sanctuary.

Before he could try and reach for his trumpet again, the Arbiter hovered slowly forward. Howard felt an icy chill swirl in the atmosphere of the room and he clutched at himself. It was as if he'd been tossed back into the tempestuous tundra without his snug mink coat.

"You humans do amuse me somewhat." the Arbiter commented, coming to a halt. "Even when you're aware that the slightest fault in your subconscious defense could mean the end of your life, you still choose to engage in such a foul and bestial act."

"Let me guess," Howard managed a smirk, cocking his head; "Never lost your virginity either?"

The Arbiter visibly winced and Howard felt faintly proud of his choice of attack.

"Christ, am I glad not to be in the same boat as you anymore." he added snidely. "I'm assuming it wasn't so much the vow of celibacy as just not being able to get with any of the temple virgins?"

"How dare you?! You ignorant little fool. My kind has evolved beyond such primal urges centuries ago."

Howard stifled a grin; "Your two servants seemed to have no trouble obeying their 'primal urges' when they were about to get off with each other in your court room. No wonder you're such a git - can't be easy being the third wheel for however long you lot had been knocking around."

"And is that your new justification, Howard? For why you were spent your life being such a…'_git_', as you say. It's a shame that your trial is over."

"You're right. It _is _over. So why don't you just give me back Vince and leave us alone? You've already erased us, why does it matter whether we continue living or not?"

"Because it is written-"

"Oh god, not again!" Howard groaned, remembering a similar booming voice giving him that answer; "Who cares what's been written?! Why not let us live and give us a second chance of actually making something of ourselves this time?"

"The dead don't get _second chances_." the Arbiter rumbled sternly.

Howard rolled his eyes; "You're talking to someone who's witnessed their own funeral and is still breathing so I…Wait, we're not dead!"

"Oh yes. You are."

"….No, we're not." Howard replied defiantly. "You've only….hold on." the hairs on the back of his neck sprung up; "…What have you done with Vince?"

Silence.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM?" Howard demanded once more.

"He is quite safe. For now, at least. But that really all depends on you, doesn't it?" the Arbiter said in a slithering tone; "You and your pretty friend are not supposed to be in this reality. Inventing a new existence for yourselves here would contradict the basis for this time line. That is why it is my duty, sad as it is for me to take it up, to destroy you both."

"Is that what you did?" Howard asked, trembling; "You destroyed Vince?"

He could feel his heart beginning to tear apart at the seams. His blood boiled as he stared at the demon across the room. He'd taken his Vince. Howard seethed, clenching his fists at his side.

The Arbiter chuckled again; "Now, now, don't be foolish. Can't you see? Vince is right here."

"Where?" asked Howard, frowning.

"Ah, love really must blind you. That is what I do not understand. You creatures cling to these emotions, these desires and lusts even though they do you no credit whatsoever. In giving into your pathetic feelings, you end up raising your spirit to such a point that it can go no further - and, just for a second, you practically die. That was all I needed for my magic, if not myself, to break through the barrier. Just a second…"

"No," Howard shook his head; "This isn't happening…"

He was suddenly aware of how disoriented, almost jet-lagged he felt, his hands raising to hold his temples. It almost felt like he was back in the Court of Merit, his body suspended in a slack hold with a chilling sense of vertigo. Howard tried to snap out of his dizziness and focus. He could only use his rage to make him feel stronger. Make him feel real.

What did he mean that Vince was there? He was nowhere in the room. What if the Arbiter had destroyed him? What if he was keeping his spirit trapped in a vial like Naboo had with Lance and Harold? He looked to the Arbiter's long, heavy cloak and his stomach dropped. _Vince…_

"Give him back to me!" Howard ordered, teeth bared in a wolfish sneer. "Whatever you've done to him, you give him back to me!"

"Like I said," the Arbiter replied calmly, raising his decayed hands in surrender; "Vince is right here, Howard."

"THEN GIVE HIM TO ME!"

"Ah…but are you sure he wants to be with you? You see," the Arbiter began, slyly. "I saw inside your little lover's mind. I saw the repulsion and the shame at having shared his body with you."

Howard's knee's buckled; "You're lying….H-he continued it, he wanted it, he-"

"Pitied you."

_No. _

The maverick gasped aloud as he truly began to feel as if he were falling. He had the bitter tang of rising bile in the back of his throat and he was finding it more difficult to ignore how distorted his surroundings were appearing to him.

Vince wanted him. Vince had said he loved him. It couldn't have been pity. Not after everything they'd been through.

"Perhaps not pity then," the Arbiter continued, studying Howard's swaying reactions; "Maybe some necessary act in order to humiliate you in front of his real friends at some point? From what I've learnt tonight, I know it wouldn't be the first time-"

"He wouldn't do that to me!" Howard confirmed to himself rather than the priest. Things were different now.

"I can _smell _the doubt on you."

"That's perverted. And anyway, it doesn't matter what you say. I know Vince and he wouldn't do that to me! You're just trying to mess with my head and I tell you now, it's not gonna work! So just give me back my friend. NOW."

The Arbiter opened his arms out, laughing coldly; "You want him? Come and get him…And you'd best be quick seeing as he hasn't got much time left."

With a final sound of the Arbiter's sniggering ringing in his ears, Howard couldn't contain his fury for any longer. Without another thought, he lunged straight at the priest and grabbed him by the scruff of his cloak, throwing him back against the wall, repeating his vicious motions as the Arbiter's head crashed back against the wall behind him.

And all he did was laugh louder.

"GIVE ME BACK VINCE! GIVE HIM BACK!" Howard roared, shaking the figure violently, nadir colours swirling around him as he continued to rough up the priest.

"I told you, Howard! Vince is right here!" the Arbiter laughed, almost hysterically.

"NO! HE'S NOT! YOU'VE TAKEN HIM!"

Howard's hands gripped the Arbiter's throat in a vice grip as his shaking turned into full on throttling.

"Howard…!"

"I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU! YOU GIVE HIM BACK TO ME OR I'LL KILL YOU!" He spat and growled, the wall now threatening to crack at the pressure of the skull being slammed against it. His victim began to writhe and struggle and Howard began to beat at him with his fists to control him, letting the dark passion take full control his body; "GIVE HIM BACK! GIVE HIM BACK!"

A shrill cry rang through the air; "Howard, please, stop! STOP!"

_Vince?_

The uncontrollable laughter echoing the room was now so high-pitched and erratic that Howard thought it sounded more like wailing.

His fists were still flailing, slapping, strangling, throwing, as if they belonged to another person. He'd squinted his eyes to a point that the world around him was as dark and translucent as the Court of Merit had been.

"Howard, please! It's me, it's Vince, please - stop it! Howard!"

He snapped his eyes open and stumbled back at the person suddenly caught in his violent claws. The room stopped swirling and Howard's mind landed with a painful thud on solid ground.

Vince was pressed up against the wall, naked apart from Howard's shirt, holding himself against the vertical surface as if wishing to fall through it. He looked at with eyes like big round saucers, full to the brim with panic and fear. His skin was red and flustered, his hair whipped up at odd angles around his face, angry marks adorning his already battered flesh. Tears leaked from his eyes but he didn't blink. He just kept looking at Howard as if he was a complete stranger.

_No. No, it couldn't be…_ Howard's conscious battled as he stared back at his friend. Was it another trick like with his Defendant and Prosecutor? The Arbiter had been in his room, he was certain of that. He'd pushed Howard, pressed his buttons, laughed at him. But now he was gone. And standing in his place was a confused and scared electro boy.

"…Howard? What the hell was that?" Vince rasped, clutching back at the bedside table for support as his legs wobbled.

Howard shook his head; "I…I didn't hurt you, I…"

"You were trying to kill me."

"I WASN'T! I would never," Howard broke off for a second as a sob became caught in his throat; "…I'd never hurt you, not again, never. H-he…he was here. He was right here with us, didn't you see him?!"

Vince gulped, frowning; "All I saw was you standing there, looking like you were in some sort of trance, rambling a load of nonsense. Thought it was just you in your jazz spazz-out again until you started saying my name and looking like you wanted to rip my head off. I was just sitting here, getting dressed, so I could go ask Naboo for help and suddenly you…" one hand flew up protectively to his swelling throat, another to hold the bruise on his upper arm where Howard's fingers had bit into it.

Howard refused to believe it. He looked down at the hands that had defied him. Or was it his eyes. Either way he'd been tricked into hurting the most precious thing in his life. After everything that had happened in the past few hours, everything he'd said to Vince, he'd attacked him again. He could've _killed _him. He was lucky Vince wasn't screaming and running a mile from him.

His powerful, sweeping strength now shrinking into weak despair, he tried to reach out to Vince only to have the younger man visibly flinch. Howard's heart shattered.

"Oh, God…Vince, I swear," his voice broke, tears welling in his eyes; "He made me think you were him. He was talking through you, I…Please, Vince, believe me, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

Vince's face began to soften at Howard's fragile resolve. Howard reached out to stroke his cheek again and this time he didn't flinch. He didn't move, just looked at his friend with sad, resigned eyes.

A whimper escaped Howard's lips, distraught with shame and guilt at what he almost did. Again. He fell to his knees at Vince's feet and wrapped his arms around his waist, feeling so wretched and defeated. He buried his face in Vince's stomach and wept into the fabric of his shirt. How useless was he? The Arbiter had found some way to get to him and he'd been so weak to believe it.

He felt Vince's tense frame loosen slowly, two hands raising up to stroke over his dishevelled curls and Howard was sure he heard him sniff back tears himself. He clung to Vince tighter.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.." he repeated through his tears.

"Shh, Howard. It's not your fault. It was _never _your fault." Vince soothed, holding his head protectively against himself; "You just got me so scared….I didn't know what was 'appening."

"…I'm sorry-"

"Alright, stop that!" Vince chastised lightly; "He did the same to me, remember? 'E made me think that you'd…I was just lucky you were able to stop me. You were able to stop yourself."

Howard cringed; "I still hurt you."

"It's nothing…Naboo will fix me up. I grew up in the forest and on the streets; you think I've never got a few cuts and grazes before? Though I am a bit insulted that you mistook me for someone with _that_ morbid a dress sense," he miraculously managed a small chuckle; "I know you didn't mean it. That's all that matters…" he continued calming Howard though his voice was sounding increasingly breathless.

It was then that Howard realized just how skinny Vince felt in his arms. It was like holding into a skeleton, his stomach practically concave and hipbones protruding where they shouldn't.

He sniffed back the last of his tears; "…He's getting stronger. That's why he's able to send his spells in here to mess with our heads. He wants to break us apart. The more broken we are, the weaker we are and he'll…be able to get through. We don't stand a chance."

Vince gasped. Howard's arms released him to glance up only for Vince to swoon to the side. The worried maverick just managed to catch him in his arms before he crashed on the floor.

"Vince?! Vince, what's happening?!" Howard's passion and protectiveness was back with full force, holding Vince closely and examining his ever whitening body. "What's wrong?"

"I…It's spreading, Howard…" he whispered up, his eyes glassing over.

Howard tugged up the hem of Vince's shirt and saw immediately what he meant. The silver line had made its way past Vince's hip and was slowly, but vividly, moving up across his abdomen.

"No, no! Vince, stay strong, little man. You have to keep strong, for me, please!" Howard begged, smoothing his hands over Vince's face.

"I'm trying, Howard." he replied, tensing his body again, hissing at the effort. "…I c-can't hold it back, I…"

Without a second thought, Howard lifted Vince upright and stood up, holding him against his hip like an over-sized child as he quickly moved towards the door, wrenching it open. Vince clung to Howard tightly, wrapping his thin arms around the older man's neck, his legs now floppy and useless.

As they limped, or rather Howard limped and Vince held on, into the hallway, Howard whispered into the raven hair against his cheek; "I love you. Please just hang on, ok."

"'Kay…" Vince said, sounding slightly stronger though still dizzy. His head lolled against Howard's; "Just so y'know…if anything 'appens to me, you-"

The house suddenly lurched as if knocked on it's side, an almighty roar shaking the building almost out of it's foundations, and at least knocking two of the occupants off their feet. Howard kept a firm grip on Vince as he stumbled, pulling the younger man down with him as they fell, luckily (as well as typically) only banging his head against the wall.

As the force of the quake decreased, Vince's hands gripped tightly at Howard's shirt; "What was that?!" He sounded like was recovering some of his strength.

"Precious Not-Lance!"

The plaintive grunt was followed by the gorilla and his shaman master rushing into the hallway to look down at the crumpled pair on the floor.

"What the hell did you two do?!" Naboo lisped furiously.

"Naboo, Vince's poison is spreading! Help him!" Howard wasn't pleading, he was ordering.

"Well I can't do anything about that, the potion's still got half an hour to be ready but it'll be too late by then." Naboo shouted; "Now WHAT were you two doing in there?!"

The pair looked to each other like a couple of guilty schoolboys being told off by their teacher.

Howard met the shaman's eyes, clearing his throat; "Er, we did nothing to 'cause that! What we got up to in our room is our own private business and none of your concern."

"We slept together." Vince blurted like a giddy teenage girl.

Howard resisted the urge to really throttle his friend's silky neck.

Naboo groaned, slapping his forehead and nearly pushing off his turban; "What do you think I meant when I said 'don't do anything stupid?!'"

Vince shrugged, chewing his thumbnail; "….Don't eat cheese before bed?"

Another blow shook the building, Vince and Howard grasping at each other again whilst Bollo supported his shaman master. The lights in the flat flickered, picture frames and objects crashing onto the floor as a thunderous cry nearly deafened the foursome.

Howard clutched Vince's head to his chest in a futile attempt to protect him from whatever danger was threatening them; "Naboo, what's going on?!"

One final crash made the dust fall from the ceiling and onto the pair. Howard had to smother Vince's mouth as he felt the plaster dirty his beloved hair and screamed.

When the rumbling ceased, Naboo detached himself from Bollo, looking out across the living room to the windows revealing the cloudy yet storm-free weather outside, his usually apathetic face now sunken, his eyes dimmed of all hope. "It's happened…" he whispered to no one in particular. He turned back to Howard and Vince, holding each other as they lay against the wall; "He's broken the barrier."

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**Uh-oh! Reviews help me write quicker and get them out of this mess though...maybe ;)**


	18. The Chase II

**Nearing to the big finale now, my loves. Prepare yourselves for some heavy angst. And thank you to all my generous reviewers, you guys are made of awesome.**

**Disclaimer: I think everyone is relieved that they're not mine. **

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With a thunderous _crash_, the windows of the living room were shattered inwards by an almighty force. The shaken foursome dashed in from the corridor, Howard holding Vince against him by his hip.

The bubbling cauldron, its white gold liquid now shining much brighter than when Howard had looked upon it earlier, was still brewing impatiently in the centre of the room. On the pushed back coffee table were a number of shamanistic tools as well as the two glowing vials containing Lance and Harold's essences. A violent gust of wind blew in from the shattered windows and the four of them raised their arms against their eyes to protect themselves from the tiny shards of glass blowing in their direction. When the wind began to calm, they squinted in the eye of the storm to see the flat looking like a complete tip. There hadn't been so much clutter and debris since the morning after Vince's 30th (or for anyone who asked, 22nd) birthday party. Thankfully, the cauldron remained upright atop its primitive stove.

Howard felt the body against him shiver and soon he also felt the stormy wind drop to subzero levels. He then could only watch as the two skeletal hands gripped the bottom of one of the window ledges and the Arbiter heaved himself up with a powerful leap and landed on invisible feet onto the floorboards.

"Right," he seethed at the group; "As fun as this hunt has been, it's beginning to get quite tiresome, don't you think? It isn't easy running around London and climbing up a building at my age! You're just lucky I'm with BUPA or you'd be in for less merciful death." The priest extracted his infamous crossbow from beneath his robes.

Vince whimpered, making Howard's hold grow tighter. Naboo stepped forward.

"You haven't even got any arrows in that thing. What d'you expect us to do, you muppet? Just go quietly?" He questioned, sounding more perplexed than frightened.

"You and your familiar are more than free to do just that. My quarrel is not with you. It's with those two walking pieces of matter excrement you wish to protect."

"Tough. These walking pieces of matter excrement are our friends." said Naboo without hesitation.

"Your friends in another lifetime - you have only just met them."

"Oh yeah…Good point."

"Naboo!" Both Vince and Howard cried in unison.

"Just hand them over to me and you'll be left alone." the Arbiter reasoned, silkily. "Do we have a deal?"

Howard, Vince and Bollo watched with baited breath as Naboo seemed to consider the offer made to him. Surely, he wouldn't...would he? He glanced over his shoulder at the duo, looking at him with desperate eyes, his own face deadpan as ever. He then looked back to the Arbiter.

"That is quite a good deal." Naboo admitted; "But then…my mum always told me never to trust anyone in a hood."

He raised his hand swiftly and the Arbiter stumbled back as if hit by an invisible boxing glove.

Naboo turned to his companions, keeping his hand raised in place; "Howard, quick, grab those two vials on the table! NOW!"

Handing Vince over to Bollo, Howard dashed for the coffee table, reaching out and managing to grab the first of the two vials. His hand moved for the second one, only to have it fly away from him and shoot through the air to be caught in the Arbiter's grip. Howard swore under his breath, stuffing the vial he'd succeeded in taking into his trouser pocket as he stumbled back to the group.

Naboo groaned as the Arbiter unscrewed his vial; "Shit, why didn't I think of that?!" he turned back to the group; "Whatever you do, Howard, do not let him get his hands on that one, d'you hear?!"

But while the shaman was too busy giving out orders, the Arbiter was pouring out the ethereal contents into his crossbow until it formed another shining arrow of destruction.

"Naboo, look out!" Howard cried as the Arbiter raised his bow at the small wizard.

Naboo turned his head just in time as the Arbiter pulled the trigger and sent the arrow shooting straight towards him. He raised both his palms up and concentrated. The arrow paused as it hit another magical shield that appeared at Naboo's command. It hovered, jittering in mid-air as it faught to break through the barrier that Naboo seemed to be struggling to hold.

The Arbiter hovered forward; "Your powers are nothing next to mine, Xooberish. Do not think you can attempt to protect yourself for long?"

"Naboo, what can we do to help?!" Howard asked, seeing the shaman being to sweat at the agonizing effort he was putting up to defend them.

Naboo panted heavily; "Y-you…need to get down…to the cellar. There's m-magic there…you'll f-find something to…h-help."

"What you on about? You ain't got a cellar."

"S-secret passage…in the shop…You'll find it, trust me…G-get there before him and you'll be…protected f-for a while…"

Howard looked to the stairway at the far right of the room. They couldn't get past there without the barrier breaking. And there was no way they'd survive jumping out one of the back windows with no bouncy castle to cushion their fall.

There was another major issue on their hands as well. The poison in his lover's body.

"What about Vince?! He's dying, Naboo, what're we gonna do?"

"T-the potion…it'll just have to do for n-now…" Naboo quickly looked back to his companions, his contorted face quickly softening with defeat as his palms slowly fell to his side; "…M'sorry." He finished with a breathless whisper.

Howard and Vince opened their mouths in silent gasps.

Bollo stepped towards his master; "Little Naboo?"

The four hundred and eighty year old, going on twelve, gave a brief smile, offering one last vital piece of advice to his troublesome friends; "...Run, you ball-bags."

The barrier dropped and the arrow made no hesitation in piercing its way through Naboo's heart.

"NABOO!" the trio cried out together.

Naboo's smile remained on his face as the alien magic ripped through his body. Within seconds his entire form disintegrated into the familiar light of a spirit, floating loyally before his flatmates for the briefest of moments before rushing backwards through the air and into the Arbiter's grasp.

The distraught ape roared, none-to-gently passing Vince to Howard like an unwanted doll and beating at his chest. Howard feared he'd be stupid enough to charge at his master's assassin before, thankfully, his asthma took over and he was having to use his inhaler. He shared a look of despair with the smaller man in his arms. Their only guardian, not to mention their close friend in spite of everything, was now gone. Dead.

The Arbiter took wasted no time in loading his crossbow again; "Do not bother trying to escape, I could shoot you before you even reached the first step." he warned, showing no remorse whatsoever for his murderous actions.

Grief and abandonment kept them rooted to the spot.

"Maybe 'e's right."

To everyone's astonishment, it was Vince who'd made the disheartened suggestion.

Howard stared down at his wounded friend; "How can you say that?"

"Well, like 'e said, what's the point? There's no way we're gonna be able to out-run 'im, especially not with me being this useless." He hung his head in shame at the last few words.

"Good little human," the Arbiter sneered; "There is some intelligence in that single brain cell after all."

Howard couldn't bare to see Vince look so forlorn. He tilted his chin up to look at him; "We can't just give up, little man. What're you always telling me, ey?"

"What, that you've got the eyes of a crab?"

"Apart from that," Howard shook his head. He stroked his friend's cheek; "You're always calling me a coward, saying that I never stick around to fight it out - well that's what we need to do now."

"…Maybe it's just my turn to be the coward this time, yeah?" shrugged Vince.

Bollo grumbled defiantly; "Naboo no die in vain!"

There was a twinge in Vince's expression and Howard pressed upon it; "He's right, Vince. 'Kay, think of Naboo. And Leroy. Think of Bollo, think of….Think of _us_!" he stroked his thumb over Vince's cheekbone; "D'you really want me and you to end tonight of all nights?"

Vince squinted his eyes tight, looking as if he was ready to cry. Only he didn't. He just shook his head and smiled up at Howard.

"As if, small eyes." He said, opening his baby blues, now focused and determined.

The line of poison had halted in line with his belly button. Howard grinned, blood rushing with new-found elation, and kissed his friend's forehead.

A tiresome yawn boomed across the flat; "…Well that was absolutely touching." the Arbiter commented with dripping sarcasm; "But did it _really _need for the encouraging theme music in the background?"

The unnoticed band that had been providing a brief abstract from the 'Rocky' soundtrack turned quiet, packed up their instruments and vacated the flat, grumbling dejectedly.

"Right," the bored priest continued once the flat door had slammed shut; "Now I can proceed with killing the both of you at last." He raised the crossbow and pulled back on the trigger.

It jammed.

He tried a second time. It jammed again. The arrow refused to leave its bow.

The Arbiter pounded at it with his fist; "Stupid piece of Aradian technology. Everyone said to go to bloody Neptune's B&Q." he muttered, frustrated.

The bemused trio frowned at each other, confused as to how they were still standing alive.

"_Howard, Vince, Bollo - can you hear me?!"_

"Naboo?!" They answered together as the lisping voice echoed around them in stereo; "Is that really you?" Howard asked, sceptically.

"'_Course it's me, you tosser. Who else do I sound like? Graham Norton? Listen, I ain't got much time, I'm channelling my energy to hold back his attack but I ain't got long - you have to do as I said, for once in your lives, and RUN!"_

"But noble Naboo dead. How he still help?" Bollo asked, as baffled as the duo beside him.

"_Never mind that. Just listen to me - I've worked out how to defeat this guy."_

Howard huffed; "Bit late for that, ain't it Naboo?"

"_As always - shut up, Howard! Listen - to kill this guy you have to somehow **turn his power on himself**__. D'you understand?"_

The trio blinked; "…No!"

"_Tough, I'm out of t-" _Their friend's voice dissolved into a crackle of static. They called out his name only to be answered by the eventual silence.

Once again, they were alone and helpless.

Across the room, the Arbiter was still adjusting his faulty crossbow, seemingly oblivious to the celestial help they'd just received as he continued to mutter obscenities to himself.

"What he mean? How we turn Aradian power on evil Aradian?" Bollo asked.

"I think I know." Vince replied, looking across the room in the direction of the cauldron. "I've got an idea, guys."

Bollo and Howard exchanged blank looks; "Nice knowing you, Not-Howard." the ape grunted.

As an irate Howard was about to correct him again, his hands loosened enough for Vince to slip out of his grasp and, fighting against his increasing ailment, limp his way over to the bubbling cauldron, grabbing a hold of the pewter brim and leaning against it, already out of breath.

"Vince, what're you doing?!" Howard hissed.

His weak friend ignore him, pressing his flimsy weight against the black stone; "Oi, Second-hand Ring-wraith!" he called to the distracted Arbiter.

The dark priest raised his hooded head again.

"You like spirits? Why don't you 'ave a binge on these!" Vince pushed his weight against the cauldron.

"VINCE, NO!"

Howard leapt forward to grasp his friend but he was too late. The large cauldron tilted off its stove at Vince's pressure, eventually falling onto its side, the heavy thud nearly cracking through the floorboards. The potion, now shining with the brilliance of ten suns, poured out from the basin and formed a tidal wave of white-gold spirits charging across the room, aiming straight for the Arbiter.

The tired electro boy tumbled with the cauldron, collapsing down beside the stove just as Howard reached him, pulling him against his fretting self; "Vince, you stupid boy! D'you have any idea what you've just done?!"

"Yeah! Look at him!" Vince nodded over to their nemesis.

The wave of the potion had hit the priest with the force of a white-water rapid. With a similar effect to mere H20 cast upon the Wicked Witch of the West, the liquid drenched the Arbiter's cloak and dissolved through it like simmering acid. He screamed, dropping his crossbow and falling to his knees, writhing in torture as the last pieces of flesh clinging to his decrepit body were burnt by the puddle spiritual sources around him conflicting with his own kind's familiar magic. So it wasn't killing him, but it seemed to be doing more damage than anything else they could've thought of.

Vince grinned proudly at Howard, his face flushed and pasty, "See," he panted, "Ain't so stupid after all, am I?"

"That was your antidote!" Howard informed him through gritted teeth.

"Oh," he instantly frowned, the gloomy realization dawning upon him at last; "…Always have to trample on my glory, don't ya Moon?" With that he fainted once more, his eyes rolling back in his head, his body going limp.

Bollo quickly stomped over and took Vince out of Howard's arms; "Quickly! Naboo say go to cellar!"

As much as Howard wanted to be the one holding onto Vince in his fragile state, he didn't protest at Bollo carrying him, knowing the ape's strength greatly surpassed his own. With the Arbiter struggling to regain his energy, his body greatly wounded from the potion that continued to sizzle and evaporate around him, the maverick and the gorilla took their only chance and sprinted towards the stairs.

Trying to avoid tripping on their own feet as they bolted down the steps, above them they heard the Arbiter growl from the living room; "I'LL GET YOU FOR THAT, YOU FILTHY EARTHLINGS!"

Vince's wheezed in Bollo's arms; "Cor…bit racist, ain't 'e?"

They rounded into the shop and Bollo lay the semi-conscious Vince down on top of the green counter just as they had when he was infected by the rogue jazz virus.

Howard rushed around the shop, poking and prodding through all the shelves, in every nook and cranny, trying to find the apparent secret passageway into the cellar. He could hear his heart pounding against his ribs. There was only a matter of seconds before the Arbiter would follow them down the stairs and he didn't have a single clue as to where this hidden cellar was.

"Bollo, d'you have any idea where this secret passageway is or how we open it?" Howard asked quickly over his shoulder, his hands throwing trinkets and knick-knacks off from their shelves, shattering at his feet without notice.

The gorilla remained at Vince's side, helping the tired mod to do something as menial yet difficult as sitting up; "Naboo no tell Bollo any secrets since Bollo tell Lance and Howard where to find Fountain of Youth and Lance nearly take over Xooberon."

"Take over…? How come I…never got that far?" Vince queried through battered breath.

"Vince, focus!" Howard reprimanded.

"Alright, alright…what about that one?" He said, pointing to a large stone leaver in the shape of a dragon's neck and head that stood out in contrast against the rest of the room.

Howard decided to go with his partner's usual luck and grabbed the menacing dragon head, letting out a relieved laugh as it easily pulled down with his grip; "Ah-ha, Vince, you genius!"

A small polystyrene cup dropped from inside the cabinet beside him, a stream of hot black coffee pouring from the unnoticed coffee maker, followed by a splash of milk and two sugar cubes.

"Speak to soon, Howard." The maverick moaned to himself.

"Oh," Vince sighed, deflated; "…Doesn't do lattes, does it?"

Footsteps suddenly pounded above them.

"Scratch that - Howard, get us out of here!" Vince pleaded from the counter.

"I don't have a clue where the hidden switch is!"

A large furry hand shoved him out of the way; "Precious stranger's friend useless. Bollo try."

Howard moved back to Vince's side, placing a supportive arm around his bony shoulders and hugging him close for a fleeting moment, thankful that he was still with him. Vince leaned against him, gripping at Howard's bare shoulder and inhaling the smell of his naked torso.

"I can hear your heart…it's like a new rave beat…Could make a song out of it," he mumbled against Howard's chest.

"Later on, ey little man?" said Howard, rubbing circles into his back. He looked to the gorilla; "Honestly, Bollo, if I couldn't find it then I dunno how-"

"This it?"

Bollo stood before a life-sized poster to the right of one of Naboo's book shelves that had once been a famous promo shot of the lead actress from the film One Million Years BC - though Raquel Welch's head had been photoshopped to be replaced by Dennis, the Head Shaman. The gorilla's hands tore the poster straight off the wall - revealing a six feet tall iron door embedded in the plywood.

"Found it." said Bollo, already unlocking the hidden entrance.

Howard quietly thought that Naboo could've chosen somewhere that breached less copyright laws.

Angry feet began to pound down the stairs. Howard scooped Vince up in his arms and raced over to the giant door, now being held open for them by Bollo's hands. They dashed inside, finding themselves at the front of a long, sloping, cave-like corridor, threatening stalactites dangling above their heads, illuminated eerily by the medieval torches lined along the wall. The duo gulped; it was their last chance of escape.

"C'mon," Howard began to move forward but was kept back by a sharp tug from his companion who span back around to face the entrance.

Vince called back to the gorilla still standing in the threshold, his back to them; "Bollo, come on! This is it, we've gotta get a move on!"

The ape continued to stand there, frozen, like a great furry statue.

"Bollo, you stupid primate! Get in!" Vince cried, struggling out of Howard's arms and balancing on one half-decent leg, growing frustrated at his silent animal friend; "…BOLLO?!"

Howard's heart sank to the pit of his stomach as his mind guessed the reason for Bollo's stillness.

The ape very slowly turned around to face them. Vince let out a sob and stumbled back into Howard's waiting arms, one hand clasping over his mouth, tears instantly welling in his eyes. They hadn't even heard the loud snap of the crossbow.

One of Bollo's hands leant up against the iron door; "…Sorry…Bollo bit slow…"

Vince squeaked a heartbreaking cry as Bollo's other hand raised to the white arrow poking out from the right side of his chest. The silver line unseen on any other victim apart from Vince shone out clearly in contrast to Bollo's jet-black fur and leathery skin as it made its way swiftly towards the old ape's heart.

"No, Bollo! No!" Vince began to wail and thrash like a two-year-old, fighting against Howard's vice-like hold.

"Precious stranger no be sad…Bollo happy…he make new friends safe…" Bollo croaked weakly. He raised his dreary, dying eyes to the shaking maverick; "…Bollo do good, Not-Howard?"

Howard bit his lip, discovering his own eyes tearing up; "Yeah…y-you did great, Bollo. Thank you."

Bollo smiled, the best you could get from a gorilla, let alone one at death's door. He released his last few breaths as the silver poison reached its target, his hand never falling from the iron door, continuing to stand protectively in the threshold.

"BOLLO!" Vince screamed, finally freeing himself from Howard's arms and reaching both hands out to grab just one from of his beloved furry friend.

They held onto each other, eyes meeting in a stolen final moment of one-sided memories and potential moments lost, the briefest hint of recognition showing for one revealing second across the primate's face. Then it was gone, dissolving into a shimmering light with the rest of his body, leaving the broken Vince grasping at thin air.

* * *

**Reviews pretty please? It's what Naboo and Bollo would've wanted :P**


	19. M'aidez! M'aidez!

**Not overall pleased with this chapter but it's the best I could do. And I'm...really sorry for the end. Thank you to all my reviewers for the last chapter and overall up till now really.**

**Disclaimer: Thank god they ain't mine.  
**

* * *

"BOLLO! BOLLO!"

Vince continued to cry out, despite his friend's disappearance. He fell to his knees once more, whether from grief or weakness, Howard would never know.

He looked up from his tiny friend on the ground back up to the threshold.

In Bollo's place was the long, darkened shadow of the Arbiter standing but seven metres away from them, the majority of his cloak hanging in tatters around his decayed body except for his hood which remained in tact, raising his hand to grab the new spirit flowing like an obedient pet towards him.

Howard growled inwardly. Vince's mournful cries scratched through the air around him. Too many lives had been lost tonight. He wouldn't let the two of them be next.

He sprinted past Vince and grabbed the heavy door, pulling it towards him with all his strength and sealing their entrance before the Arbiter could even attempt to reach them in time. He double bolted the door with the large metal planks forking into the caverns wall. They were safe, for now. Or, Howard's mind clasped a chilling thought, had they just been trapped like rats once more?

He stumbled back, his brain a scrambled and messy rush from the events of the last ten minutes. Their last remaining friends in this world were dead. Once again, it was just the two of them. Howard and Vince; left to face the world._ Trust Bollo to be dead when he'd have the perfect thing to say at this time, _Howard groaned.

Not wasting anymore time, he knelt down to Vince, still mewling and weeping on the ground, squeezing his shoulder; "Come on, little man. There's nothing we could've done. We've gotta keep moving."

Vince sniffed, tears continuing to leak from his closed lids, throwing his arms around Howard's neck. Sharing his warmth as well as his sorrow, Howard wrapped his arms tight around Vince's skinny frame, letting him bury his pointy nose in the crook of his shoulder. He held Vince close as he pulled him upright, shushing him gently whilst moving one arm to hold him against his hip again, beginning their descent down the slanting corridor.

He didn't know how long they would be safe in this dark, dank cellar for. But then, time wasn't exactly on their side as it was, with Vince's condition. He could already hear a powerful banging against the metal door behind them as the Arbiter continued to try and force his way in. All Howard could do was keep walking downwards, the path taking them deeper underground. If he listened closely he could hear the faint rumble of the Northern line roaring below them. Maybe that was there only escape - finding a way to tunnel through the ground and chance upon falling on a tube train. And then what? Having the Arbiter continue to chase them and kill a hundred more innocent souls that got in his way?

Howard was shaken out of his thoughts by the smaller man at his side, his sobs having turned into deep, chesty coughs. He fell more limp, his arms losing their grip around Howard's neck and the older man had no choice but to carry him properly, lifting another arm under his legs, the other still supporting his back. Vince could barely manage to keep his head up, leaning it against Howard's shoulder, his eyes closed and tired.

"Don't fall asleep on me yet, Vince, please. Just wait a little longer." Howard said, quickening his pace as he trotted down a few broken steps, taking them deeper.

Vince flickered his eyes open, watching the glow from the lights bob around Howard's head as he carried him further, weaving between the longer stalactites lining the ceiling.

Eventually they came to the end of the corridor and to what Howard presumed was the mysterious cellar. He was more than disappointed to discover that it was smaller than their stock room, not to mention darker, colder and just as cluttered with all sorts of shaman junk. Finding a cure for Vince in this place would be like finding evidence of intelligent life inside the Big Brother house.

Howard spotted a pile of dust-covered Persian, or more likely Xooberish, cushions and rugs packed against the far side of the room. He crossed over to them and balanced his dozy friend on his side as he used one hand to spread out the soft pillows to form some type of bedding on the stone floor, batting off as much dust as he could before laying Vince down upon them. He took the rug and blanketed it over his friend's shivering form.

"There…" exhaled Howard, padding out the rug and making sure Vince was comfy. "Running for our lives and you get to curl up in a bed; not bad ey?"

"M'sorry H'ward…"

"Ey, what's this? What you got to be sorry for, silly?"

"…If I hadn't 'ave tipped over the potion…It might've been ready by now…And I wouldn't be so useless…"

"Listen to me, Vince." said Howard sternly; "If it hadn't been for you then we wouldn't have been able to slow the Arbiter down to buy us enough time to get away, would we?"

"…Mmm, 'spose." He murmured, snuggling his head into the pillow, not even bothering to put on a smile after what had happened; "…Can I 'ave a…bit of a sleepy now?" the mod yawned.

Howard bit his lip; "I'd rather you didn't, sweetheart. I really need you to stay awake and keep your thoughts as positive as possible while I look for something to help us."

"…'Kay. I'll try me best…" He then suddenly broke off again in short, rasping coughs.

Sitting him up slightly, Howard patted his back with his palm though it did nothing to help Vince whatsoever. His friend looked so very pale; dark, hallow circles deepening under his eyes, his forehead moist and pasty. He ran the back of his hand over Vince's brow, feeling him beginning to break into a fever. The poison was spreading.

An idea suddenly came to mind and Howard pulled the vial containing the single spirit that Naboo had told him to grab earlier, from his trouser pocket; "Here. Vince, drink this," he advised hurriedly, removing the screw and holding it to Vince's pursed lips; "It might be able to hold it back."

Vince ceased coughing and narrowed his eyes at the vial; "…That's…s-someone's spirit, ain't it? I don't even eat meat, H'ward…wh-what makes you think m'gonna drink a dead guy's soul?"

"I don't think it's their actual conscious, Vince, I just think it's their…ok, I don't understand it either, but this isn't the time to be a humanitarian - you're _dying _and it's the only thing I can think of to help you right now. So drink it!"

"But Howard…"

"Drink!" the maverick commanded, authoritatively.

Vince squirmed at the bottle and reluctantly took it to his lips, raising one hand to hold it shakily to him whilst Howard balanced it also. He watched as Vince's face started to soften, perhaps from the amusing taste from the essence itself or it's aiding effect on him.

"Mmm, thanks. That's a bit better…." Vince mumbled when the vial was empty. "I can still feel it inside me though…it burns."

"Shush, just snuggle down," Howard whispered, settling his friend back down on his back; "Naboo said I'll find something in here to help us and I will…somewhere. You just try and stay strong, okay?"

Vince nodded; "…D'you really think we'll be able to get out of this one, Howard?"

"Yeah, of course we will. We've been to hell and back before, we can get through anything."

"This feels a bit different than any of them…People have died, Howard. _Really _died…" The hopelessness in Vince's usually bright and chirpy voice made Howard shudder.

"C'mon now, you know that being cynical is my thing, don't you go stealing my lines."

Vince smiled weakly; "Feel free to steal mine then…M'too tired to do it myself this time."

"Alright," Howard began with a deep breath, smoothing over Vince's forehead; "This time tomorrow we're gonna be out of here. We're gonna be safe and you're gonna be all better. We're gonna spend the day together, doing whatever you want and if it's sunny and warm I'll buy you an ice cream with all your favourite toppings. We'll go out for dinner to that 80's themed restaurant you love. I'll even let you drag me to one of those damn nightclubs you're always trying to get me to go to. That sound good?"

"…Yeah…Sounds genius….As long as I get to tell you what to wear when we go out."

Howard rolled his eyes, knowing he had no choice but to give in; "Fine."

"And…I can teach you a few extra lessons to add on from last night, yeah?"

"You randy little tart," Howard widened his eyes down at his cheeky friend; "…Oh alright then."

Vince struggled a grin; "Can't wait…H'ward?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

"Yeah?" He took Vince's chilled hand in his own.

"…D'you think…you'll be able to find something…to bring them back?"

Oh God. Howard sighed, not sure whether to be endeared by the innocence of Vince's question or swamped with that feeling of uselessness at the most probable answer.

He shook his head mournfully; "I don't think so, Vince. I'm sorry."

Vince didn't look at all shocked by this answer; "…Leroy…Naboo…Bollo…the _baby_," his voice cracked at the last word; "They're all gone. All of 'em."

"But we're still here, ey? Me and you, against the odds." Howard really was having to be the optimist for the first time in his life. And it was only then that he realized it was a much harder job than people believed. Especially when hope seemed to be caving in around them. He gave Vince's shoulder a reassuring squeeze; "We've survived this far - that counts for something, don't it?"

"…Yeah," Vince managed a tiny yet meaningful smile; "…It counts for everythin'."

He gripped Howard's hand back securely and the maverick's heart skipped a beat.

"_Hello? Hello? Howard, Vince - can you hear me?!"_

Vince's eyes sprung open wide; "Was that Naboo?!"

Howard was relieved that he wasn't the only one who heard the familiar lisp and hence wasn't going insane under pressure. Only the sound hadn't been in crystal clear stereo like it had up in the flat. It was muffled, hidden, coming from a particular spot in the cluttered basement.

"_Guys?…If you can hear me then answer, you idiots!"_ Naboo's voice was spliced between the continuous sound of crackling static.

Howard sprung back from Vince and started rummaging through draws, cabinets, inside unused cauldron's and excavating dusty antique wardrobes too stuffed with moth-eaten mink coats in order to search properly, not to mention the icy winter wind coming from within. Nothing of any help whatsoever. Then he found it!

He pulled out an old amateur radio from inside a crate of alien porn magazines, complete with an attached microphone, all working perfectly despite not being plugged into any mains system.

"What's that, Howard?" asked Vince with his usual child-like tone of curiosity.

"It's an old ham radio. My old man had one of these in his study. I used to love scaring the old woman across the street who had one by pretending there was some disaster happening-"

"_Yeah, Howard, we ain't got time for another extract from your autobiography."_

"Oh. Sorry." Howard's eyes widened and he gripped the microphone; "Wait, Naboo! You can hear us?! We can hear you!"

"_I figured that, thanks. I'm guessing you made it to the cellar if you've found the radio."_

"We did, yeah. But how are you talking to us? You said you didn't have enough power?"

"_I don't. I'm having to use the radio as well, luckily it's good enough to communicate across spiritual planes, better than my stupid mobile. And it was only five euros in the boot sale I got it from, talk about a bargain!"_

Howard frowned; "Wait…you're using the _same _radio? How does that work when we're using it? In fact; how the hell are you using a radio in the first place when you're dead?!"

"_Harold waste precious time instead of helping Precious Vince."_

Vince sat bolt upright; "Bollo!…You're there too? You're alright?!"

"Where is 'there'?" Howard asked; "Where are you two; we saw you get killed! Shot! Burst into a billion tiny pieces and scattered into the ether!"

"_Look, you can't just expect plot holes to tie themselves up straight away, you've gotta give it a little time. Or in other words, Howard, focus on the problem at hand!"_ Naboo advised tersely; _"Now how's Vince? Is he okay?"_

Howard looked back over his shoulder at the electro boy lying curled up amongst the plush velvet and scarlet bedding, having rested his head back down, though looking a tad more lucid than when they'd first entered the cellar. He still looked deathly white and his struggled breathing could be heard a mile off.

"He's getting worse, Naboo. I fed him one of the two vials that you put Harold and Lance's potion into and he seems a bit better but he's still-"

"_Wait! Which one did you feed him?!"_ Naboo sounded oddly serious.

"What d'you mean?"

"_Which one did you let him drink? Lance or Harold's?"_

"Uhm…I dunno. The bottles both looked the same. See now, don't you see the benefits of the labelling system I introduced into the shop? It helps us to avoid matters like…hold on, what difference does it make?"

"…_Nothing. Hopefully anyway." _The dead shaman didn't sound too sure of himself. _"No, just forget it, I was thinking of something else...cheesecake recipe or something. It's fine. As much as it pains me to admit, you did the right thing Howard."_

The maverick couldn't help but let Naboo's rare praise warm him a little.

"Naboo, you said there should be something in here that could help Vince, what is it?" asked Howard, looking at the useless bits and bobs stacked around him.

"_I dunno."_

"…What d'you mean you don't know?!" Howard raised his voice, gripping the microphone tighter; "Jesus, Naboo, why the hell did you send us down here if you didn't have a clue what would help Vince?"

"_There is something, okay? I know that much. Trust me."_

"How? How do you know that?!"

"'_Cause it's in the tealeaves. Look, that cellar is where I store any unstable magical charms or dark objects unsuitable to be sold in the shop. It's protected so that only either myself or those closest to me can enter it in times of peril. Or you've got some knock-off dvds to hide. In any case; there's no way the Arbiter can get through if you've sealed the door."_

Howard remembered a similar line being used to describe the great 'unbreakable' force field but he decided not to press upon it. At least they were safe, as well as cold, uncomfortable and terrified.

"_Now Howard; do you remember what he…I mean, d'you remember what I said to you about how to kill the Arbiter?"_

"You said we had to turn his power on himself." Howard recalled, "But we tried that. Vince sacrificed his antidote to turn the spirits against him and all it did was wound him."

"_Oh you stupid goons - that is NOT what I meant. You have to turn __**his**__ power on himself."_ Naboo chastised irritably.

"We're not shamen, Naboo! We don't have a clue how to work his power or your power or any power other than the gas and electricity. And we don't seem to have either of those down here seeing as you decided to have the Changing Rooms team from 1660 decorate this place. We're just two humans who weren't even deemed fit to have ever existed and we're scared and alone and we both could die at any moment - so stop yelling at us and say something helpful!"

There was a silence on the other end. Howard regained his breath after his surprising tirade to Naboo. Only the sound of the Arbiter's forceful banging, Vince's heavy wheezing and the shrill ringing on his ears surrounded him.

"…_Alright, no need to shout. First things first. D'you see a large red button on the left wall facing from the door?"_

Howard looked up and, indeed, a bright red round button stood out in sharp contrast against the rest of the monotonous area.

"Yes!" he cheered and wasted no time in jumping up and slapping his palm against the button, pushing it in. Their salvation would no doubt arrive at any moment!

"_Great. Now make sure, whatever happens, you do not press that button."_

"…Oh. Right."

Rusted metal gears began to grind from somewhere within the stone walls.

Howard bit his lip; "Uh…Just out of interest, Naboo, what exactly is that button for?"

"_It's the Emergency Escape button. In case someone in the cellar sets off one of the stink bombs or opens Pandora's box again. Saves time unlocking the metal door. You pressed it, didn't you?"_

"…No?" The guilt dripped audibly through his single word.

"_You know what I'm gonna say, don't you."_

Howard hung his head; "That I'm the king of the ball-bags?"

"_Close enough. Good luck, your majesty." _Naboo's voice fizzled out back into heavy static.

"No, wait! Naboo!" Howard tried adjusting the dials on the radio to try and regain the signal; "Naboo, I'm sorry, help us! Naboo!" The dead-pan lisp didn't return, only a flick through of a collection of menial stations and programmes;

"_Coming up next; the world of Lee Mack!"_

Howard slammed his forehead down on the radio. They'd been abandoned once again. Hope lay in a thin, shredded veil around them. He began to growl, beating at the useless radio with his fists.

Then Vince screamed;

"HOWARD!"

He lifted his head in time to see the Arbiter walking down the corridor towards their cellar. Unable to do anything other than follow his instincts, Howard sprinted across the room to make sure he was stood like a true Northern shield in front of where Vince lay on the pillows.

In the Arbiter's bow was a ready loaded white-silver arrow used from Bollo's converted essence. The priest strode into the cellar, the back of his cloak flowing like rabid black claws in his wake. He came to a stop just over ten feet away from the exhausted duo and raised his skinless fingers again.

"I thank you for kindly opening the door for me. Let us make doubly sure we're not disturbed again, agreed?" said the Arbiter pleasantly.

He clicked his thumb and forefinger together and Howard was nearly shaken off his feet as the ham radio exploded into several detatched pieces with an overpowering electrical charge.

"Now," continued the Arbiter, "You are both quite admirable for having succeeded in escaping me thus far. If anything it does make your sentences even more tragic. All that potential the both of you were capable of and none of it put to any use. But now the dawn has broken and it's time for you to hand your pathetic corpses over to me." He raised his bow downwards towards Vince.

Howard didn't move a muscle.

"You're gonna have to shoot me first."

"Howard…" Vince croaked, reaching out a hand to tug on his trousers. Howard's eyes remained fixed on the Arbiter.

"Oh how I would love to. And it will be a triumphant relief to finally have your essence used as ammo in my quiver." teased the Arbiter; "But sadly your pointy little concubine must be eliminated first."

"Why?" Howard glowered.

Vince coughed; "H'ward…!"

"Just shush a minute, little man - Why must be Vince be killed first?"

"By the goddess Corel, you really are an ignorant wretch, aren't you?" the Arbiter groaned somewhat; "Surely you must be aware of the connection between you after all this time?"

"Connection?" Of course Howard knew they had a connection. Even before last night when he'd finally come to terms with his true feelings for Vince, he'd always known, at least subconsciously, that there was some sort of bond that tied them together through thick and thin, annoyance and hate, humiliations and betrayals. What made up that bond was on a level far above Howard's reach of ever knowing, so he assumed. He didn't care. Not as long as it was there, tying their souls together till the end.

"By some divine prank, it was set by the cosmos that the two of you would have your existences bound together. I believe it's what your kind calls a 'soul mate'. Only this had a specific contract to it. For some reason for which I cannot decipher, Howard Moon; you cannot properly die whilst Vince Noir remains living."

Howard blinked. A large space seemed to bloom in his mind where all his previous knowledge gained from life once rested; "…What?"

"Open your eyes, you dumb animal." hissed the Arbiter impatiently; "Look back on your excuse for a life just as I had to do tonight when deciding the verdict for your trial. Look at all the times fate itself has tried to wipe you off this planet and into oblivion. The near-death experiences, your general clumsiness and never-ending losing streak. Why, Death itself even managed to bring you down as far as hell itself once and, once again, what was it that stopped you from being obliterated and defied the will of the gods?"

After requesting the needed flashback, Howard's mind was cast back to that fateful day three years previous, when he was a whole different person with his head stuck in the clouds and blind to the blessings that lay around him.

Only the blessings were few and far between in that particular memory as his feet dangled over a pit of fire and brimstone whilst a large ape in need of a good perm declared his intended fatality.

"_Wait!"_

"_Who are you?"_

_"I'm Vince Noir! This is my mate, there's been a mix-up, you can't burn 'im!"_

"_Who's going to stop me?"_

"_I am."_

Howard's mind shuttled back to the present, leaving him with a slight head rush and a symbolic slap in the face; "…Vince."

"Exactly. It was no coincidence that he was able to get you out of any mess you had stumbled foolishly into by the simplest of methods. And it seemed that no matter what destiny tried to do to destroy you, that little whelp would always find some way of diverting it, committing the greatest of blasphemies. Of course, recently you must have noticed that the Powers That Be have begun to try and take out your friend first, by a malignant virus and a power-hungry fox for examples - but his irritating gift of good luck always manages to prevail in the end. That, I understand now, is the reason I was sent to you Howard Moon. Luck can only help you so far when you're trying to outrun an Aradian - we absorb it for ourselves as we do your spirits. And now all your luck and chances have run out."

"So you can't kill me unless you kill Vince first." Howard explained the in-a-nutshell summary more to himself. He let this startling revelation fill him with a surging sense of invincibility; "Well you can't shoot him without going through me!"

The Arbiter sniggered; "Oh really? I'm sure I could find a way to tempt you to move away from him."

"There is nothing in this world that means more to me than Vince!"

"Not even jazz? Or is it stationary?"

Howard cringed inwardly. _Don't listen to him._ He had to keep strong.

"Or how about…a photograph of a legendary yeti? Unless that deal only applies to potential rapists."

An invisible fist fired its way against Howard's gut. He felt truly sick with himself at the reminder of how blind and callous he'd once been. Why had he agreed to that deal? As much had Vince aggravated him up, it was never to the point that he'd wish any real harm onto the lad, especially not _that_. Maybe it had just been to prove to himself that he didn't need Vince. That his life was his own and he didn't need to worry about someone else who was grown up enough to look after themselves. All those years spent lying to himself and had so very nearly cost him the one special thing in his life.

He really was the lowest of the low. He was, as his mother had said, a worthless piece of scum.

"Of course. It doesn't really matter anymore whether you choose to stand there or not." the Arbiter let his crossbow fall down with his right hand at his side.

Howard's mouth gaped like a goldfish; "What d'you mean?"

A sharp cry of a gasp, like that of someone having been saved from drowning, rasped painfully from behind him. It was only then that Howard realized just how _too quiet _Vince had been.

"Vince!" he cried, turning around and collapsing on his knees at the mod's side. "Vince, what's the matter? Vince?!"

But Vince just seemed to be convulsing, struggling to break through his fit as his eyes rolled back and his body shook as he made futile attempts to inhale the air to talk.

Howard leaned over him and tore his borrowed shirt in two, several buttons tumbling off without care, allowing him to view Vince's bare chest.

The silver line was only an inch or two away from his heart.

"No…No, Vince, no! No!"

"…How…ard…" his small friend rasped as the poison seeped into his lungs.

Howard gathered him up onto his lap; "It's alright, love. It's okay, I'm here, I've got you. C'mon you can fight this, yeah?"

"I…c-can't….H'ward…." he continued to spasm, his organs fighting a losing battle; "…The potion…I don't think it….w-wanted to help me…"

Lance. The spirit in the vial had been Lance's.

The entire world suddenly came to a stand-still and Howard forgot there was anyone else in the room with them. He held Vince closer, supporting his head on his arm, his other hand caressing his porcelain clear face.

"H'ward…I….I c-can't…feel you…"

"Yes, you can, yes you can. I'm right here, see? Right here. I'm holding you and you're gonna be just fine. Just fine, d'you hear?" Howard's frantic words tumbled out of his mouth at the frosty panic gripping his heart.

He took hold of Vince's hand and squeezed it tight; "See. You can feel that, yeah? Please tell me you can feel that."

"L-little…bit…" his hand tried to squeeze back, a glimpse of a smile flashing over his lips for a brief second. "…I…just feel so numb…m'scared, H'ward."

"Shh, shh, don't be scared. You don't need to be scared. Why should you be scared? Nothing's gonna happen to you, I promise, I won't let it!"

"Howard…"

His voice barely rose above a whisper. His vibrating had subsided but his chest was till heaving with great effort in order to draw in his last few breaths of air. Howard felt his skin and it was like touching an ice burg. He held him even tighter, not wanting Vince to be cold or frightened. Or dying.

"Oh God, Vince, please, just fight this for a little while longer. _Please_." Howard begged, his voice beginning to break.

"I…c-can't…it's too much, Howard….I really am gonna…'ave to be the coward this time."

"No. No, never, you'll never be…Vince, you just can't leave me, alright? You heard what he said, if you're not here then I've got no chance. The only reason I'm still here is because of you, I…I'm _nothing _without you, sweetheart."

Vince's eyes began to flutter into eternal slumber, yet his eyes managed to shine up at Howard enough to show proof of the life left clinging inside him. He raised a hand to stroke Howard's cheek; "…You…stupid prat, Howard…" he laughed, an effort which turned into a splutter as his hand fell.

Howard continued to rock him close; "It's the truth, little man. I should've always known it."

Vince made a few shallow gasps as he looked up at the maverick holding him; "…Truth?…Oh, Howard…" his face suddenly switched; "I think I've figured out what Naboo meant….You-"

He suddenly began coughing in rough, rattling choked breaths again.

"Shh, don't…d-don't try and talk, sweetheart…Just try and stay strong. For me." Howard felt his own throat constrict; "I…I know I don't deserve it….I don't deserve you, but-"

"Shut up, you gorgeous idiot." Vince half-laughed, half-whimpered. He squeezed Howard's hand tighter; "…You need to….listen to me for once…come close….Not you, destroyed ham radio!"

Howard blinked through a few of the tears that had formed unwillingly in his eyes as he leant his head closer to Vince, several pieces of burnt out metal and plastic wondering dejectedly past the bemused Arbiter watching the couple.

Vince tilted his chin up, his eyes heavy-lidded and wanting; "…Couldn't give a dying bloke a kiss, could ya?"

"You're **not **dying!" He nearly shouted.

"Howard." Vince smiled sadly, his own red eyes welling with tears.

He didn't want to accept it. He was more willing to die himself than accept the truth. But there it was, lying so graceful and delicate in his arms. His dying angel.

It defied everything that was right in the world. In his world anyway. Vince Noir could never get truly hurt or sick, let alone die. Only this wasn't their world. It was the antithesis of everything they knew; where no one else knew Vince's name, where the two of them could love each other freely and where they were sentenced to permanent exile into oblivion.

Howard crushed his lips against Vince's, holding the back of his head, his fingers clutching at the flawless raven mane. He breathed in Vince's taste as if to forever keep a part of him with him whilst their tongues refused to stop their dance for the world. When they parted, their noses remained nuzzling, Howard's tears dropping to mingle with Vince's.

The mod's fingers brushed them away; "…Howard…listen to me…"

He sniffed, looking down at the love of his life cradled against him.

Vince inhaled deeply;

"There....is…another…" he inhaled a second time; "…Sky…walker…."

"…What?"

"Oh, sorry." Vince flushed with strained laughter, "Wrong last words."

Howard managed an ironic laugh as well, just thankful to share one final giggle with his friend. Last Final. More tears leaked from his eyes as words he didn't want to hear flashed in bright red neon lights in his mind and soon he was crumbling again.

The silver line had more or less reached its target. Vince gasped; "Howard…l-listen…" he raised one quivering hand.

Tiny rays of light began to shoot through his skin like routes on a map.

"Oh god, Vince! My Vince!" Howard wept openly, closing his eyes holding Vince tight upright against him, his tears soaking into his hair as he clung to him for dear life; "I love you! More than anything…I'll do **anything**, just _please_. Please don't leave me. Not again, my love, please…"

His words descended into meaningless, sobbing pleading as the world, his world - Vince, began to shatter in around him and he'd be left with nothing except the endless pain and ache of suffering his final moments on earth without the one person who made his life worth fighting to live it.

One hand linked around the back of his neck and Howard felt a pair of lips brush against his ear.

Three words whispered, softly yet determinedly, into his brain and quickly wormed their way into his thoughts.

And then, from that moment, Howard was no longer afraid.

Even when his arms encircled Vince tighter, feeling his body lose all physical presence and disintegrate into the air - his perfect skin, his slender feline-esque frame, his sapphire eyes, his ebony rich hair, his sunbeam smile - when it all became nothing more than a vivid memory and Howard was left clinging to his own body as his heart imploded in grief, he wasn't afraid. Not when he could still smell Vince's strawberry shampoo. Not when his heart still raced with the thrill their kiss had kicked into it. Not when his mind replayed the final three words Vince had spoken to him and only him.

_You. Are. Worthy. _

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**...Please don't kill me! I have a family. Kill them! ;) Reviews may encourage me to fix things...**


	20. Paradox

**Phew! So glad to finally have this chapter written. I still can't believe what this fic has become, considering I writ the first chapter drunk and it was intended to be a mini-fic. Oh well, hope you've enjoyed it thus far and thank you for all the lovely reviews.**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine.  
**

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"_No…No, Vince…Vince! Come back, Vince!"_

"_H'ward?"_

"_Don't go…Don't go, please, Vince!"_

_Footsteps pattered across the room and a petite weight dipped the beige mattress; "Howard? Howard, wha's'matter? Wake up."_

_Slender fingers curled themselves around his own and gripped his hand tight._

"_Wha-!…Vince?" Howard's eyes shot open at the silhouette of the man leaning over him in the dark. He sprung upright and sat back against the headboard, panting as if he'd just seen a ghost. "But you…I s-saw you…" Tears leaked from the corners of his squinting eyes._

"_Shh, it's alright. It was just a bad dream." Vince whispered, clutching Howard's hand whilst using his free thumb to wipe the droplets of salty tears from under Howard's eyes. "D'you wanna tell me what it was about?"_

"_You…God, Vince, I thought you'd…It was horrible!" _

"_M'sure it weren't that bad, silly."_

"_You died, Vince!"_

"_WHAT?! Why the fuck are you dreaming about something like that for?!" Vince's face widened with shocked._

_Howard shook his head, his face crumbling as the images replayed in his mind; "I didn't, I…Fuck, Vince, I thought I'd…I thought I'd lost-"_

_Vince shuffled closer and wrapped his arms around the bigger man's torso, pulling him close; "Oh Howard, I know, m'sorry. I am sorry. It ain't your fault. It was just a stupid dream."_

"_But you were…And I couldn't save…oh, Vince…"_

"_Shhh. I ain't dead, am I? M'right here, with you, see. We're safe and everything's fine."_

"_Don't ever go….Never, you can never leave me, please…"_

"_Okay, I promise. I ain't going anywhere. You'll never get rid of me. Who's gonna look after you and get you out of trouble if I ain't here, ey? I'll always be with you. Forever and ever."_

_Vince continued to rock and whisper soothing words to his friend until he began to calm down. Still shaken from his night terrors, Howard remained snuffling into Vince's shoulder, his arms wrapping around his small yet warm body. One hand reached up and felt its way into Vince's jet-black mane that shouldn't have been half as soft considering all the products he used on it. He nuzzled his cheek against it, drinking in the promise of unconditional love and protection that was Vince. 'Forever and ever'. _

xxxxxx

Howard remained sitting on the empty bedding for god-knows how long. His arms were still wrapped tight around himself in a pitiful one-man hug that provided little comfort for the yawning chasm that had been left in his heart.

The heat from Vince's body and the sweet scent of strawberries had both faded into a memory. He'd tried so hard to cling to the last few remnants of his friend's essence but it had been pointless.

_Saturday__. Vince dead. All is lost._

His tears had dried. It cost him too much strength to cry, strength which he just couldn't put the effort into finding, let along using. All he could do was sit there, knowing that the man who could seal his fate was standing not too far behind him. He sat there, waiting for the inevitable arrow in his back, which he'd receive with gratitude. What else did he have left to fight for?

Vince had been the one thing in his dark life that had broken through the shadows and brought what few rays of sunshine he had in his heart. Where a grey silence would always plague Howard's thoughts, Vince brought colour and music with just a greeting smile on his 'visually noisy' face. Now he was gone - and all that remained was the stillness. No screaming, no weeping, no howling - just the Nothing.

His mind recalled reading _The Divine Comedy _at his two-person Book Club (the other member being Lester, who had a legit excuse for not being able to read most of the books - he didn't have a body anymore to hold a book). Dante had described the ninth and final circle of Hell as nothing but a lake of ice where the souls were damned to remain frozen for eternity. No movement. No breathing. No feeling whatsoever. And it wasn't until then that Howard understood the effect of such a punishment. How it left one begging and pleading for the infamous fire and brimstone; to bring some heat, thrill and passion back into their senses.

He'd suffer anything to melt the endless numbing in his chest. The eternal, hungry _ache _in his condemned soul was more unbearable than any so-called trauma he thought he'd suffered in the past few years. He just wanted it to be over.

"Go on then." he finally spoke, his body still curled inwards; "What are you waiting for? Do it. Shoot me."

More silence.

"I said SHOOT ME!" Howard growled, opening his red raw eyes at last.

"Stand and face me." said the Arbiter.

"…Why?"

"Do not question me!"

Howard laughed bitterly; "What're you gonna do? Sow my mouth up? Poison me? Doesn't matter anymore, does it. You've already taken **everything **from me. Just get it over and done with!"

"I want you to be facing me. After all this time I've spent tonight chasing you, I feel I've deserved the pleasure of seeing the look in your eyes when my arrow penetrates your heart."

Howard's stomach twisted. It wasn't enough that he'd killed his best friend and watched him grieve. He didn't want to give the bastard anymore satisfaction. But if it meant getting it over and done with, then Howard couldn't see the point in putting up a struggle.

He slowly rose to his feet and turned to face the armed priest standing opposite him.

"Happy now? Here I am, you shit-head. Any other requests? Want me to stand on my head and sing the national anthem?"

"That won't be necessary."

"Oh but it was necessary for you to murder all my friends?!"

"Yes. It was."

"Don't you care at all?! They're all dead because of you!"

"They are dead because of _you _- you blind human beast." the Arbiter shot back defensively; "If you had just accepted your fate back at the Court of Merit like a man then the casualties that occurred tonight could have been easily avoided. Instead you chose to run like the coward you are, infect this new world with your unwanted presence and take innocent lives with you. It is not my hands that are stained with their blood."

Howard thought over all the faces of those he'd lost tonight. Vince's was the first, his fading blue eyes flickering helplessly up at him from his lap. Then Bollo's, then Naboo's, then Leroy's. If he had just stayed in the Court of Merit then…No. His mind reached back further and saw the face of his Defendant. The one who'd given his life so that Howard and Vince could get away.

He glowered up across to the Arbiter; "It's your fault! You're the one that killed them! I didn't _make _you shoot any of them. I didn't make you bring anyone else into this. That trial tonight was just for me. You didn't have to bring Vince into it at all!"

"I already told you. I needed to kill him before I could kill you, to abide with the unusual law of the gods."

A revelation dawned over Howard's expression; "So…you never thought Vince was worthless. It was just a case of getting rid of him so you could kill me?"

"Correct. Though such information needed to be kept away from the Powers That Be watching over the Court of Merit obviously."

Another penny dropped.

"You weren't allowed to kill him. He didn't deserve to be erased, did he?"

"Of course he did not." said the Arbiter haughtily; "The essence in that boy was one of the strongest of your kind that I have ever come across. Doubled by the attached spirit of his unborn child. No, Vincent Noir would never have even appeared in my radar had it not been through you. So I suppose, for that, I should thank you, Howard Moon."

"Thank me? For helping you break your 'rules of the court' or whatever they are? You're _thanking _me?"

"Indeed. Converting your friend's spirit will supply me with enough Anti-Essence for a good few light-years. Such a rich vein that I would never have stumbled upon had it not been for you."

Howard's stomach twisted; "That's all that matters to you, isn't it? You're just another type of corrupt clergy man, no different than the kind we get on Earth. You don't give a toss about your laws or ethics, all you care about is fulfilling your own selfish needs and making everyone else feel lower than you!"

The flailing ends of the Arbiter's tattered robes bristled with loathing.

"And you'd know a lot about that, wouldn't you, Howard Moon?" he sneered back at the maverick.

"I am nothing like you!"

"But you don't really care for the laws and morals of which you preach. It's all just lip service, is it not? You have proven that you would willingly trade those you claim to care about if it meant fulfilling your own desires. That you falsely believe that you are above the rest of your race. Is it not true?"

Howard clenched for a moment, wishing with all his soul that he could deny it. But he was sick of lying to himself. He sighed reluctantly; "Yeah…that's true."

"Then you are no different than me."

"No!" Howard flared again; "We're not the same at all! I'm **nothing **like you. I actually feel _guilty _for the things that I've done and for the way I've acted. Is that the same for you, is it? Do you feel any remorse whatsoever for the crimes _you've _committed tonight, oh great Arbiter?!"

"My actions were justified! I was pursuing two fugitives who's essences were bound to me!"

"Well were we worth it? Was _I_ worth it?! All that chasing, all those people, your two servants, my Vince - was it all worth it just to get to **me**?!" Howard challenged, anger flowing through his veins like hot magma; "For someone who's so insignificant, you sure have made a lot of effort into making sure I don't exist! D'you think your Powers That Be bosses are really gonna let you off on the fact several lives have been cut short just for the sake of one useless Northern dosser?"

The Arbiter went quiet at Howard's words that had apparently hit some sort of nerve in the walking corpse's system. Howard stood, near breathless from his rant, adrenaline pumping through his body. He'd never had to think on his feet in such a situation before and his heart seemed to rule his mouth rather than his brain.

After a short pause, the Arbiter raised his crossbow across his chest; "Yes…well. These are simple hiccups that can be easily dealt with." he then ran his bony hand over the crossbow and Howard watched as the arrow became charged with a familiar translucent red aura.

"What're you doing?"

"I am blessing this arrow with the power of the goddess of time. The same power I used to erase you and your partner's existence the first time. I'm now passing it into this arrow so that when it hits you, not only will it destroy your body, but it will erase every action you've committed from the moment you set foot in this world."

"…Right." said Howard dismally; "Meaning all your problems are sorted then? No one in this reality died and you still get rid of me?"

"That is the jist of it, yes."

Howard thought to ask why he hadn't just used that in the first place before remembering not to be an idiot and just being grateful for the extra time he'd managed to have with Vince.

"Well go on then. Enough chit-chatting. Just get on with it."

"Indeed." the Arbiter raised his bow; "But before I do…"

"Oh, Jesus."

"It doesn't have to end like this for you, Howard Moon."

"What d'you mean?" He frowned.

"I mean that you have proven tonight, if nothing else, that hold within you an impressive amount of ambition and passion to survive. See how all your companions have fallen around you and yet, somehow, you remain living?"

"That's because you **shot **them all! 'Cause you're too much of a crap aim to just hit me!"

"I'm making you an offer here! An offer to have everything you've ever desired."

Howard's ears pricked up. He was definitely paying attention now.

"You seek immortality. To be known and remembered throughout eternity. You seek to be revered by all. You seek power beyond that which is capable for your kind. Power to keep that which you hold special to you forever….I can give you all of that." said the Arbiter silkily.

"You can?" Howard responded, his previous anger now cooled with the impending rush of hope.

"Become my apprentice. My servant."

He should've known there'd be a catch. Howard grimaced at the thought; "You must be joking!"

"I wish I was. But unfortunately, you're the first living soul I've come across in centuries who has been so pompous, elitist and cold-hearted. These are the perfect attributes for assisting the Arbiter of Life. Perhaps even being the heir to my throne should the day come when I wish to cease my own immortality."

"…You want me to work for you?" Howard repeated the words, believing them even less than he had before.

"Think about it. The power of time and space at your command. You will have the right to judge all those who have tried to crush your spirit before and sentence them to a fate worse than death. You'll be a god, Howard Moon."

A shower of possibilities began to cascade over Howard's easily tempted mind. He thought of the people who had put him down and made him into who he was today. The idea of getting revenge on his cousins, his parents, the punters who abused him, Bainbridge and Fossil - it appeared so enticing before him. No longer would he be a failure; he would be the one deciding the _real _failures. He'd have proper authority at last. He could demand jazz to be played constantly in the pubs, shops and city centres and no one could try to resist.

But that wasn't what really mattered to him. There was only one thing he really wanted and the possibility of getting that back could be all it took to sway Howard's decision.

"And Vince? Would I be able to get him back?" he asked, his heart fluttering.

"Of course. I have two job vacancies open anyway. He could be your apprentice again. He'd respect you just as he did when you first employed him back at the zoo…" said the Arbiter, knowing exactly all the right buttons to press.

That managed to make Howard's defiant spirit buckle slightly. The promise of Vince coming back to life. Him and Vince as true partners again. They could easily destroy the Arbiter together and take control of the Universe; side by side, King and consort.

His hand suddenly twinged as if tapped by a hot spoon straight out from stirring a fresh cup of tea. Out of the corner of his eye, Howard thought he saw something shiny and gold waft through his fingers but then he decided that he must have been imagining it.

_You weren't imagining it, you tit! Don't you __**dare **__take up that offer!_

Howard wasn't sure where the voice had come from. He'd more felt it rather than heard it. But suddenly he remembered the look in Vince's eyes when he'd attacked him at Leroy's house just before he'd said what a 'great Arbiter he'd make'. That look in his eyes hadn't been respect. It was fear.

"Well? What is your answer, squalor?" the Arbiter demanded.

The maverick's lips twitched into a smirk as he met the priest's hidden eyes.

"Get stuffed."

The Arbiter visibly grizzled, raising his bow again; "You would dare to turn down an offer of divine power and intergalactic rule?!"

"I doubt it's all it's cracked up to be." Howard replied dryly.

"You fool! You could've had it all!"

"What, to be under your bony, rotten thumb for the rest of time? To end up a decrepit, soulless, pathetic old husk like you? _Ah! _Or is that the rub? You don't want me to work for you 'cause of my potential or what-not. You just want me because you're _lonely_!"

"How dare you mock me?!" the Arbiter hissed, his reaction only spurring Howard further.

"That's what this is all about, isn't it? The only real loser or waster in this whole thing is you. Because you were once like me. Angry, selfish, vain, bitter. Then you got your hands on some powerful ju ju and suddenly you're the great Judge of the Universe! Only the thrill didn't last, did it? When did it start to wear off? Two centuries ago? Three? When did you start to lose your looks and have to cover yourself with that cloak which even I think is god-awful and I was voted Britain's worst dress man for the last five years!" Howard held up his five tiny trophies from thin air, all in the shape of a gold trilby hat. He tossed them aside and continued; "There's nothing left under that thing, is there? Not even any 'essence'. That's why you feed off the souls of others, isn't it? To give yourself some life because what's left has died long ago. That's why you use other people's voices to speak. You don't even have a name, do you?!"

"I am the Arbiter of Life!" he boomed, enraged.

"See! You don't even remember your own name. You're so consumed by your own greed and anger at the universe that you're just a machine now. A withered, pathetic old shell. And I'd rather die, at least knowing what real love feels like, than spend the next thousand years slowly turning into _you_."

"You have never been loved! You have lived a life without ever knowing true compassion or selflessness!" the Arbiter was now screeching, advancing on Howard like a raging bull. "You are WORTHLESS!"

His voice no longer sounded like Howard's Northern lilt; more that of a crazed banshee.

Howard smiled; "No I ain't." he said, cool as a cucumber. "You ain't the judge of me or anyone. I'm my own judge! You're just a sad old wizard with a Hitler complex. You make people feel worthless so that they decide their own fate in the end and sentence themselves - but it's not gonna work with me. Those things you mention. Love, compassion and all that; they're just words to you. Forgotten meanings. To me they mean they're real." _To me, they're Vince. _"And I pity _your _wasted existence."

"It does not matter how you feel! I will still destroy you!" the Arbiter sneered as he thrust his arm forward and pointed the shining arrow in line with Howard's heart. Dead on target and it would all be over.

Howard whimpered. He was afraid. Of course he was, anyone would be, it was all part of being human. Only this time he wasn't ashamed of it nor any other basic 'human' flaws he had in him. Instead he was grateful for the excitement and thrill they gave him. Just as Vince, along with his teasing and play ups, would bring meaning and passion into his life. _The fire and brimstone. _

The bones of the Arbiter's fingers began to grind. Howard looked at the point of the arrow and wondered how much it would hurt. More than an ordinary arrow? Not that he'd ever know. Or would it be different. Would the poison spread so quickly that he wouldn't have time to feel it?

_No. Don't think about the arrow! Think of Vince. He's waiting for you._

Ever since the first day they'd met, Vince had been trying to help Howard become the hero he wanted to be. Only Howard had never realized that all along, the real hero had been Vince. And he never once got the credit he deserved from Howard, nor even thought to ask for it. But now Howard could see that that's what being a real hero is about; not caring about the fame or the gratitude, just being relieved that your best friend was alive and safe.

Once again, he'd done it. In his final moments, he'd reminded Howard of the one thing he needed in this final conflict. Reassurance. He'd not only felt love. But he been _loved_. Sure, he'd die. But he wouldn't suffer. Not when he'd given at least some of what he'd had to give.

Tonight, Howard had tasted why he was put on this world. For once, he'd felt truly alive.

And that was worth dying for.

He closed his eyes and thought of nothing but Vince. Vince's arms around him. Vince's hair brushing against his face. Vince's lips upon his. Vince on top of him, inside of him, loving him. He thought of the final moment he'd held his love in his arms and heard his final words against his ear. That familiar scent of summer fruits filled his senses again. He opened his eyes, ready and waiting; "Go ahead. Try it." he smiled.

With a final irate roar, the Arbiter obliged Howard's wish.

xxxxxx

"_Howard?"_

"_Mmm?"_

"_Where d'you think we go after we die?"_

_Howard leaned up on his elbows, looking at the younger man lying on the grass beside him; "Ain't like you ask such a bleak question, little man."_

_His apprentice shrugged, gazing up at the clouds with his hands under his head; "Was just wonderin'. Never really thought about it until lately. Never had anyone close to me who died before."_

"_What about your parents?"_

"_Never knew 'em, did I. Oh God, does that make me sound 'orrible? I mean, I don't wish they're in hell or nothin'…"_

"_No, of course it doesn't." Howard soothed, patting the smaller man on the arm slightly before pulling his hand back. "Is that why you're asking now? 'Cause of last week?"_

"_Mmm." Vince had become less naïve and a tad more aware of the world since having rescued Howard from Monkey Hell. "You were the first…I'd never been to a funeral before yours, not that I can remember. That's why I sucked at organizing it, didn't 'ave a clue how things were meant to be done. Sorry."_

"_It's fine, Vince. Hardly matters now, does it. I'm back. And in answer to your question; from what I saw of the afterlife, it don't look all that peachy."_

"_But you only went to Monkey Hell. You didn't get to see Human Heaven or Hell."_

"_True." Howard agreed, spotting a saxophone-shaped cloud floating above them._

"_What d'you reckon it's like then? Heaven, I mean."_

_Howard decided to put his inherent atheistic beliefs (that were being challenged enough as it was) aside for the sake of the sweet man-child beside him: "…I guess it's whatever you wanna believe it's like. Your idea of paradise."_

"_That's kinda what Sarah said to one of my foster brothers when 'is dad died." said Vince wistfully. "…So, it must be full of famous rock stars and mountains of sweets. And jazz is banned under penalty of death. Again."_

_Howard sighed, secretly endeared; "If you like, little man."_

_They lay in silence for a while, their faces bathed in the bright sunshine._

"_Actually," Vince continued; "I reckon it's just like the zoo. Only with a few alterations. No Fossil or Bainbridge of course. And a few other tweaks here and there."_

"_You reckon so?"_

"_Mmm." He smiled blissfully. Vince then moved close to his friend and rested his head on Howard's shoulder; "…Yeah, I really do."_

xxxxxx

"No…No! That's impossible!"

Howard clenched his closed eyes, more than surprised to hear the Arbiter's high-pithced tones. He was sure he'd heard the snap of the crossbow. He squinted open his eyes.

It took a lot of strength not to shit himself at the sight that awaited him.

There, sure enough, frozen in mid-air barely two inches away from his face, was the arrow.

The Arbiter dropped his bow to the stone floor, backing away from Howard as if he were set to explode; "This cannot be! You are not a shaman, there's no way you can…"

The arrow had stopped. The _arrow _had _stopped_.

Howard raised his hand to touch it, only to burn his fingers at the power surging through it still. He took a step back and looked from the arrow to the Arbiter who, for the first time that night, didn't appear so menacing. In fact he looked small. Scared, even.

A brilliant idea shot into his mind in the place of the arrow. Howard leant down to the Persian sheets and ripped a large corner off one of the thinner fabrics. He used it to sheath the end of the arrow and pluck it out of the air with his hand. He could feel the heat of its energy through the sheet but it was bearable. He wasn't exactly sure what was happening, just going off guess work. But he was willing to trust it. His heart racing, he looked back at the Arbiter who was now positively shaking.

"No…No, don't you even _think _about it!" he threatened, his tone not half as intimidating as before.

"Think about what? How you murdered a lot of my friends tonight?" Howard responded, walking towards the demon. "You didn't really think, after all that, you'd still be on my Christmas card list, did you?"

The Arbiter's pieces of cloak raised like hackles on a swan; "You don't have what it takes to kill!"

"I once ran over a posh berk with my van and punched a defenseless old lady. Don't try and test me on things I would and wouldn't do."

"You cannot erase me! All my glorious work throughout the centuries will be undone! The Universe will collapse at my eradicated presence! You will destroy everything!"

The quivering priest took another step back, only to trip on something shiny and gold that happened to shoot behind his ankle at that point. He growled, stumbling backwards and onto the ground.

Howard stood above him, the arrow ready in his hand. He tilted his head as he looked at the priest at his feet like a curious child; "You now what? I think you're right. We are kind of similar. Because I can work out exactly what your sentence should be, _oh Accused One_."

"No…!"

Howard raised his weapon high in the air; "Case closed."

He stabbed the arrow down and into the Arbiter's chest. The force of the impact once the arrowhead had impaled itself in his shrunken heart, causing surge of magic to expel from the wound, sent Howard flying back through the air and hitting the wall. He groaned, rubbing his head as tiny stars danced before his vision. In the distance, beyond the ringing of his ears, he could just hear the Arbiter's furious screaming at having become that which he'd spend his life hunting.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!"

Then, eventually, silence. The Arbiter's screams would only be heard from then on by a farmer on Aradia with a flickering bug zapper.

Howard rested his head back against the wall, still shaken by the alien magic as well as having escaped death. Again. The blinding spots of light blurring his vision finally began to part and the world, or at least the cramped cellar, began to feel vivid beneath him. The Arbiter had disintegrated into the ether. It was over.

And, now, all that was left, was stillness.

Until-

"Howard?"

The maverick snapped his head to look across at the empty bundle of Persian sheets again. Except the bundle wasn't empty of life anymore. The slender figure, still dressed in just Howard's Hawaiian shirt, slowly sat up, blinking as if having just woken from a nap, rubbing his eyes adorably.

Vince looked drearily across at the older man, squinting through his vision as if unsure whether he was real or not. Then his face lit up; "Howard!"

Howard's jaw dropped. He stared for a moment at the man who not ten minutes ago who'd been dying in his arms. There he was, real and healthy as ever. Grinning at him like normal.

"Oh, Vince!" He cried, half-running and half-stumbling back over to the Persian bedding.

He dropped to his knees before his smaller friend and practically fell against him, wrapping his arms tight around him in a bear hug. They both fell into the embrace, squeezing each other back with overwhelming relief, nuzzling their faces against the other's shoulder or neck.

Howard laughed lightly into Vince's hair, breathing in that smell again; "Vince…Vince, my love. You're alive! You're really alive!" he remained laughing, even as tears pricked his eyes.

"Of course I am. I promised you. Forever and ever, remember?" Vince giggled back before planting soft butterfly kisses along Howard's shoulder.

"Yes…Oh god, yes." He beamed against Vince's head; "…I did it, Vince. I did it!"

"I know," beamed the mod, pulling back to look up in true awe at the older man; "I saw it…My god, Howard, you were incredible! I'm _so _proud of you." he stroked Howard's cheek with his thumb.

"I know…I'm proud of me too." Howard admitted shamelessly.

They both snickered again before Vince pulled Howard's face to his and they shared a joyful reunion kiss, hands sneaking into hair and around backs, holding them closer together as an indomitable unit. They gripped hold of each other tight, Howard's hand grabbing a fistful of Vince's hair and Vince moaning into Howard's mouth. Their tongues were busy and eager, both parties desperate to feel that the other was really there. The clinch was broken when the room suddenly _shook._

Vince yelped, jumping back and nearly tipping sideways before Howard's hands grabbed him and held him close again. The whole cellar was rumbling with the force of an increasing earthquake. Bottles tottered off their shelves and crashed to the floor, intoxicating scents of heavy potions flooding the air and rubble falling from the ceiling.

Thin arms clung around Howard's neck as Vince's head pressed against his chest; "What the hell's happening?!" he raised his voice over the sound of the quake.

"I…I think I just destroyed the universe."

"Oh, trust you!"

A whole bookcase fell on its front and the pair grasped each other tighter. Cracks began to open up in the stone floor around them that would scour to the centre of the earth.

Howard panted, fear returning slightly; "I'm sorry, Vince. Guess I just messed things up again."

"No," said Vince, raising his head to look at Howard; "No, you didn't…If we 'ave to die then what better way than this ey?"

"What, in a cold, crumbling cellar with a load of shaman junk?"

Vince just laughed; "Us, you lemon! Me and you, together. And, even better, we get to take the rest of the stinkin' world with us as well."

"Yeah…I suppose you're right." Howard smiled, brushing his knuckles against Vince's cheek.

"I wouldn't change one second of it, Howard. Not for the world." Tears of joy welled in Vince's sparkling sapphire eyes as he ran his hands back through Howard's curls. "It was perfect."

"Yeah. Yeah it was, little man. It was perfect."

They embraced each other again as dust, stone, potions, smoke and god-knows what else began to blur their senses just as the increasing shaking disoriented them. Larger pieces of ceiling started to cave in as the walls collapsed inwards. They were only barely dodging the heavy rocks and objects showering the compact cellar.

Vince dug his fingers into Howard's shoulder, breathing rapidly against his earlobe, "I love you….I love you…"

The world literally shattered around them, disintegrating into endless blinding light as the bodies of their friends had, and all that was left were the two middle-aged, half-naked men, closing their eyes and clinging to each other at the destruction of all creation.

Howard smiled and kissed his best friend's hair; "…I know."

One final crash.

Rumbling increased into rapid spinning all around.

Then everything went dark.

Howard eventually opened his eyes.

And the first thing that struck him about his changed surroundings was that Vince was no longer in his arms.

* * *

**Hope you liked. Reviews would be love. **


	21. No Day But Today

**Yes! This is it! The finale to this pain-in-the-arse of a fic that hasn't let me have a moment's peace all summer. Sorry it took so long but this just isn't how I wanted to end it originally but, as usual, I seemed to have no control over this story and I kept nit picking over it. **

**As long as this took me to finish, I feel like I've rushed some parts and skipped over stuff that I wanted to cover at first but didn't. I may do an epilogue but for the moment this is the official ending, take it or leave it.**

**Here it is, my lovelies. Hope you enjoy the show.  
**

* * *

Howard bolted upright, his lungs immediately seeking air that was received in a panicked gasp as reality swarmed into harsh clarity around him. It took a few moments of scared, confused wheezing before his brain caught up with his eyes and he realized where he now was.

His bedroom.

Not Lance and Harold's bedroom. The photographs tacked to the mirror of Vince's vanity table confirmed that. That must mean, Howard began to conclude, that they existed! They'd never been erased because the Arbiter had never existed to erase them in the first place. Howard exhaled; his plan had worked! Everything was back to normal.

_But, in that case, where is Vince? _Howard thought, startled.

He sprung forward, off the bed and onto his feet, an almighty head-rush nearly knocking him straight back onto the mattress. As yellow stars blinked in his vision, he failed to notice the scrunched up ball of paper tumble from his open hand and onto the floor, where it rolled to its eternal exile beneath the bed.

Howard rubbed his hands over his weary face. What had they done with Vince? He wasn't sure who 'they' were exactly. Whoever controlled the source of the Arbiter's magic. Or space and time. Or the plot. Either way, he was sick of just sitting around doing nothing. He'd proven tonight that he was capable of so much more than that. And if anything had happened to Vince, if anyone had laid a hand or a claw on his perfect face - then God help them. Howard Moon would show no mercy.

"DUM - DUM - DUUUUUUUUM-"

"AAAH!" Howard screamed like a little girl as the ominous sound echoed from behind his door. His heart remained hammering for a few seconds before recognizing the sound itself.

"DUM - DUM - DUUUUUUUUM! PEACOCK DREAMS!"

That show. That stupid show. There were only two people in that flat who watched that alien programme at near enough every hour.

Howard threw open the bedroom door and raced down the corridor and to the living room. He stopped dead in his tracks as he took in the sight of them, almost unable to believe it was true.

"Bollo!...Naboo!" He breathed each name with its own reserved sigh of relief.

"What've you done now?" Naboo asked, lazily, his eyes still firmly fixed on the bright colours swirling on the T.V, one hand curled around the end of his shisha pipe.

"N-nothing….You're both alive?! Really alive?"

"Well **I **am. Bollo died a the zoo, remember. Not that you'd know, lookin' at him. Amazing cosmetic surgery you can get for zombies these day- WHAT THE-?!"

Naboo had been shaken from his blasé sentence at the pair of arms sweeping him up off the sofa and literally shaking and swinging him round and round as a ecstatic, almost insane, laugh rang through the flat. Neither wizard nor gorilla had ever heard Howard laugh so hard since…well, ever. It scared the shit out of both of them.

But Howard continued to laugh and sing; "You're alive! You're alive! You're alive!"

"Well, I won't be for much longer if you plan on crushing me, you ball-bag!" Naboo cried out to no avail. He continued struggling and looked to his stumped familiar; "Bollo, get my spell book, Howard's been possessed by the ghost of Jim Carrey."

"But Jim Carrey no dead." Bollo grunted back.

"Then kill him first and then exorcise him, whatever, either way just get this berk off me!"

Bollo stomped up to the crazed Howard and raised his paws. However, as soon as he did, the maverick's attention was immediately swapped to the ape instead. He dropped Naboo like an old potato and opened his arms wide again.

"Bollo, you big ol' furry cushion, get in on this as well!" He grinned before throwing his arms around the ape's neck.

"Naboo - Bollo got many, many bad feelings right now!"

"You ain't the only one." Naboo panted, massaging his neck and rubbing his arms from where Howard had squeezed him a _bit_ too hard. "Howard, you freak, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Naboolio, nothing is wrong with me! Nothing!" Howard exclaimed jovially, pulling away from Bollo, his smile stretched like a Christmas cracker. "I've never felt so good in all my life! I feel like a new man, like I'm on ecstasy, it's INCREDIBLE!"

Bollo quickly waddled towards the hallway, presumably to take a thorough shower.

"Well I am on ecstasy, right now," Naboo replied to Howard; "and I'm no where near wherever you are."

"You're on ecstasy?" Howard asked, a bit taken aback.

"Of course I am. Can't you tell from my all-joyous glow?" Naboo asked, his face deadpan as ever. He then turned to face the invisible fourth wall of their flat; "But seriously kids; don't do drugs. There's a time and a place for everything - and it's called Uni." He turned back to Howard; "Anyway, you were saying how good you felt?"

"That's right, Naboo! I feel GREAT!"

"Right, well the world must be ending. Better start packing. Looks like we're off to Pluto."

Howard held the tiny man's shoulders; "No, Naboo, you don't understand. I was given an epiphany tonight! A revelation of myself! An epic adventure through time and space that changed my whole perspective on reality!"

"What you on about; you haven't left your room all night?" Naboo shot back, switching off the T.V that happened to be sounding a dramatic, gallant choir in the background. "You been eating that cheese made from Bollo's breast milk again?"

"Ew, god, no! I just…Don't you remember? The Arbiter? He kidnapped me and then Vince and then he erased us from time and then he killed you two and then…Wait, a sec, how would he have breast milk, he's a ma…Oh, whatever, it doesn't matter. _Don't you remember any of it_?!"

Naboo raised his eyebrows at the confused jazz man; "I think we've got an answer. That sounds like some heck of a dream though, I should really try some of that stuff."

"It wasn't a dream! It all happened, right here, except it wasn't here. It was in some different reality that doesn't exist anymore."

"Because you woke up?"

"Yes..I mean, no!" Howard slipped over his words, confused as either of them; "Look, it really did happen! I can prove it to you, I can…Okay, I can't because I made it so that the alternate reality and the Arbiter was erased but…Why would he even need to milk his breasts? And why for cheese?"

Naboo shook his head, his arms folded; "Look, Howard, it just sounds to me like you had some wacky dream caused by Vince leaving. It was bound to happen, you two are spiritually connected, the more distant you become then the more it's bound to affect your subconscious."

"My god…Vince!" Howard's mind crash-landed on solid ground, ignoring Naboo's completely; "Where is he now? We've gotta find him!"

"He's at Leroy's, ain't he?"

"No, Leroy's gone skiing. And all his other friends are too shallow to let him stay at any of theirs. Oh no, Naboo, he could still be in danger!" Howard's joy and relief became quashed by despair. If everything had returned to normal, meaning before they'd been erased, then that meant Vince had still been left as pray on the streets of London for any savage predator to capture. "Trust me, Naboo, please! We need to find him, we need to make sure he's ok!"

With that frantic thought, Howard turned and ran down the stairs, two at a time. Naboo followed him, his expression hardening at the clear seriousness in Howard's eyes, and his obvious, rare concern for someone other than himself.

When the tiny shaman reached the bottom of the stairs, Howard was already stuffing his feet into his sandals, his jacket clutched in his hand.

"Where are you going?" asked Naboo, almost sounding worried.

"I have to find Vince. After everything we went through tonight, I can't lose him again, not now everything's better." Howard muttered, seemingly having difficulty making his feet fit inside his shoes.

"Everything you went through? I don't wanna know what that means, do I."

"Probably not. I don't have time to go through it anyway," Howard finally succeeded in putting on his shoes. He straightened up to face the shaman, a statue of determination; "All you need to know is that, whether you remember any of it or not, Vince and I went on a true journey in the depths of our souls and our relationship last night, through life-threatening trials and tribulations that nearly left us in pieces, yet we came through it all. And now, Vince is out there. Cold, confused and all alone - my poor little man…He could be being tortured or raped by some sicko. He could be dead, Naboo, dead! The love of my life - DEAD!"

"Alright, dead, I get it." Naboo nodded slowly; "'Kay, maybe you're right."

"Thank you!"

"Or," Naboo then cocked his head to the side; "He could be standing right behind you."

Howard stifled a glare with a mere scoff; "Please, Naboo. I'm not gonna fall for that old trick."

"Fall for what?" asked a lively voice from behind him.

"Naboo thinks I'm gonna fall for the whole 'He's behind you!' thing again." Howard informed him over his shoulder.

"What, that old hat? As if that would happen! Give 'im some credit, Naboo, 'e knows this isn't some silly pantomime."

"Yeah, Vince is right, I know this isn't a…."

Howard span around.

"…Vince?!" he exclaimed in a horse whisper.

The smaller man flinched back as Howard turned on him. He stood frozen, his face blank and waiting as Howard's darting eyes scanned him up and down like some sort of machine. He was still wearing his silver sequin cape with the peacock feathers, which he slowly began to take off as the heat from being indoors again warmed through him. Howard's jaw dropped as he took the imagine in. Surely it was impossible. Two nights living on the streets and there wasn't a single crease on his clothes, nor a single hair out of place on his head, nor any dirt or marks on his skin. Besides the one Howard had given him.

But most importantly of all; he was alive. He was real and he was safe. _And he's here!_

"Vince…" Howard said again, softly, taking a tentative step forward; "…Oh my Vince! MY VINCE!"

Naboo observed with amusement, though also relief that he wasn't the one receiving one of Howard's show of affections again. He watched, leaning back against the staircase, as Howard sprung forward and wrapped his arms around the stunned Vince, lifting him up off his feet and spinning him around as his laughter shook the place once more. Naboo could now see the possible reason why it was a good thing that Howard wasn't this happy every day.

Vince, on the other hand, didn't seem to have a single clue as to what was going on. Though unlike Naboo and Bollo, he showed no signs in wanting it to stop. His hands clung to Howard's shoulders as the older man hugged him and picked him up, giggling slightly to himself. Just because he was happy. He wasn't sure exactly why he was so happy. Normally he didn't need a reason but this time he knew there was one. Something. Possibly.

Howard eventually stopped the swinging and his movements subsided to merely embracing the life out of Vince, clearly having no intention to let him go easily.

"Oh, Vince! You're back! You're safe and you're back!" Howard rejoiced into the famous black mane.

"Careful, Howard, anyone would think you were glad to see me." he retorted, now mainly dizzy from all the twirling.

"Of course I am!" Howard beamed, pulling back slightly to meet Vince's eyes. He stroked his fingers down the side of a smooth cheek; "I really thought I'd lost you for a moment there, sweetheart. I'm never gonna let that happen again."

"Woah!" Vince reeled back a little; "…_Sweetheart_? Howard, 'ave you gone wrong…er?"

"Oh, let's not joke anymore, love, ey. Not now. I'm just so happy that you're here!" He moved his lips forward towards Vince's but the smaller man inched back.

Vince frowned; "Yeah, I think I somehow worked that out myself - Naboo, what's 'appened to him?"

"You tell me." Naboo shrugged.

Howard, confused yet reluctant to give up, pulled Vince closer, his hands clasping his tiny waist gently, yet with the promise of not letting go easily. Vince's breath hitched as he looked up to Howard, their face's barely a few inches apart. Howard couldn't understand why Vince looked so lost and scared.

"What's wrong, little man?" he asked tenderly, raising one hand to stroke his fringe; "You don't need to be like this anymore. It's all over, we won! He won't hurt us anymore. Everything's changed. We can start a fresh now. Us, together! Oh, Vince, I love you so much-"

Howard leaned in for a kiss, again, but was met with a sharp shove in the chest that separated the both of them.

"Okay, Howard, you are really freaking me out here!" said Vince, sounding genuinely annoyed. Or maybe just afraid. Or both.

Howard stared, looking for all words like a lost puppy dog; "…Wh…what d'you mean?"

"Well last time I saw you, you smacked me in the face and said I was dead to you. I've been gone two nights and suddenly you're a human carousel and you….Did you say you loved me?"

"…Yes." Howard admitted shamelessly.

"And what did you call me earlier? The love of your life?" Vince suddenly burst out a laugh; "That was ME?"

A cracked whimper escaped from inside Howard. He wondered if it was the sound of his heart shattering.

Howard blinked, his face falling with each surprise laugh Vince uttered. He should've known. It was foolish to think that anything could've ever really gone right for him.

"You don't remember anything." It wasn't a question. The words dropped from his mouth in cold, final syllables.

"Remember what, Howard?!" Vince asked, semi-amused but also frustrated.

Naboo sighed; "He had some weird dream last night and he thinks it was real."

Vince's expression switched; "What? A dream? What about?"

"Doesn't matter." said Howard.

Both shaman and mod stared at him. It was shocking how the big, bouncing Northerner of yester-minute had shrunken back into the brooding, miserable old Howard in the blink of an eye. His face was suddenly drooped like a bulldogs. The newborn sparkles in his eyes had dimmed.

He shrugged on his coat and avoided the eyes of the two looking at him; "It was just a stupid dream."

He slid past Vince and made his way towards the door.

"Where are you going now?" asked Naboo.

"Just for a walk. I may be gone for some time."

Naboo thought those words sounded a bit familiar but decided not to press on it. Howard could do with more fresh air after always being cooped up in either the flat or the shop. Apparently oxygen was beneficial to humans, so he'd heard.

As Howard's hand touched the doorknob, Vince's hand came down on top; "Howard, wait…" the callous laughter had diminished from his voice; "What you said when I came in…do you still mean all of that?"

Howard sighed, closing his eyes mournfully; "Please let me go, Vince."

He wasn't sure whether he would at first. There was a change to the confused look in Vince's eyes. He was still confused, granted, but there was a shimmer of something else as he looked at Howard. Slowly, he lifted his hands off Howard's and drew it back. Now free, Howard opened the door and wondered out onto the streets.

Naboo bit his lip as he watched Vince stand at the window, staring through the glass long after Howard had disappeared from sight.

"Ain't you gonna go after him? Isn't that what you do?" he asked, noticing how uncharacteristically still Vince was.

The electro boy shook his head; "Not this time."

"Why not?"

Vince faced him with a sour pout; "'Cause I'm sick of it, Naboo. I'm sick of 'is mood swings, always messing me about, making me think white is black and black is…What's black again? See, there 'e goes again! Now 'e's going on about some dream 'e had and thinks he loves me…it's Howard, he doesn't have a clue what he wants. If I bring 'im back 'ere then things will just go back the way they were."

"What if he does something stupid?"

Vince's eyes widened; "You think he might? Why?"

"'Cause he's Howard."

"Good point…But, no," Vince stated, certain; "No, I'm not going after him. 'E always goes on about being able to take care of himself, I'm sure he'll do fine."

_* * *_

"Possible 'cause of death?" asked the D.C.I as he stood over the corpse on the pavement at his feet.

"Well from the look of him, all we can gather so far is that he was attacked by some mutated, enraged pigeons." informed his colleague; "..But from the smell of him, I'd say he'd been drinking nothing but his own urine for six weeks."

The D.C.I sighed; "What a waste of life. Better zip him up. And I bet he doesn't even have any friends or family who will miss him. Oh, sorry sir, this area is cornered off! You'll have to go to the other entrance."

Howard was ready to utter a moan of annoyance before he spotted the body of the filthy, mauled stranger surrounded by the police. He grimaced, partly with horror and pity that any poor soul could end up that way, though also allowing himself some pride at his end not being quite as undignified as that. No. Howard knew that his fate was in no one's hands but his own. And he knew exactly where it was supposed to lead to. For the greater good.

He turned away from the grotesque scene and walked around on merely a longer road towards his destiny. Luckily his thoughts were already crammed with the events, or non-events, of the previous night to be crashed by the image of a dead body also.

The more Howard thought about it, the more it really did seem like just a dumb dream. Nothing ever did seem as vivid when thinking back on it but everything last night had happened in such a rush that it was too much of a blur to grab one freeze frame. How could he have been so stupid? Him and Vince…It was something that was only meant for the world of dreams. Their 'Night' together. Howard's first. In the end it had all been nothing but a dramatic masturbation fantasy.

So that meant Howard was still a virgin. Another friendly boot to appear to kick him when he's down. Still a virgin. Still unloved. Still worthless.

It may as well have just been another dumb dream. Either that or the Universe had just played some hilarious joke on him. Whichever way meant the same thing; Vince's feelings for him, if they'd even existed, were now nothing more than three words whispered into Howard's ear. That was all that he had left.

* * *

_I'm not going to look for Howard. I'm not going to look for Howard. I'm not going to look for Howard._

Vince shrugged on his jacket and stepped out the door of the Nabootique. He wasn't going to look for Howard! No, he was just going for a simple walk to clear his head. He wasn't worried about Howard. Of course not, why should he be?

No, this was just some spare time given on an early Saturday morning in order to organize his thoughts and reflect upon his life so far, allowing himself a moment to come to terms with who he really was and thus gaining a deeper, more meaningful understanding of himself.

**- Five seconds later -**

He reached the end the street, fully understanding himself and his life. _Wow, I really am shallow. _He hummed to himself; _Maybe I should read more or…oh, look! Something shiny!_

The shiny thing happened to be a waft of sparkling gold energy that floated around the corner and came to hover in front of Vince at eye level for a few waiting moments. Vince paused in order to stare at it, both intrigued and merely dazzled by its appearance. And, just for a second, he allowed himself to wish that Howard was with him to see it.

"Uhm…Alright?" Vince gave his usual trademark greeting, raising his hand to wave at the shiny spirit thing.

Shiny spirit thing gave a musical twinkle back in response. Vince assumed that meant 'hello'.

He blinked; then opened his eyes to find himself looking at the last thing he expected to see. Mainly because he hadn't brought any full-length mirrors with him (just his usual hand-held and close-up).

"Awright?" the younger him chirped back.

"Uhm…yeah." Vince responded, looking his double up and down from his fitted trousers up to his green zookeeper jacket and feathered, blonde hair; "Wait, I know who you are…Didn't you die?"

"Didn't you?" he smirked back.

"…Touché."

An elderly couple wandering past at the time had to do a double take at overhearing that small exchange. They shuffled off, their footsteps quickening, muttering about 'these damn kids today coming back from the dead.'

"So you do remember it then?" Vince's double challenged.

"…I thought it was just a dream. It felt like a dream. " As Vince spoke the words, the fog began to part to reveal the sneaky memories. And the colder the air felt around him. "Everything's all so fuzzy. Like it's too good to be true."

The younger him smiled, cocking his head; "You weren't supposed to remember. That's why it doesn't feel real. I had to bend a couple of the rules to allow some of it to stay with you. Your friends don't remember, of course, even though your shaman friend channeled his energies across dimensions to help you before after his familiar returned from the Court of Merit - they had to have their memories erased. Apart from Howard, obviously."

"Howard?!" Vince heart suddenly sped up, remembering how his friend was earlier that morning. "He had the same dream?"

"It wasn't a dream. Not like the last 'shared' one you had on that island. Howard remembers because it was his lesson. It wasn't intended to be yours as well but it turned into one. That's why I'm here to tell you that, seeing as you're too stupid to figure it out yourself."

"Hey!"

"..What?"

"Nothin'." Vince shrugged; "Just thought it was worth acting insulted. But how do I know I'm not just imagining you right now, ey?"

_SLAP!_

"Ouch!" Vince squeaked, holding his stinging cheek. He glared at his younger self; "Surely there was a less painful example than that!"

"What example? I was just slapping some sense into you. Howard needs you right now and you're being even more of an idiot than he is. After everything you two went through last night, he's left believing that it was all for nothing, d'you have any idea how much that hurts?"

"Yes! I do!" Vince shouted back. He knew how it felt to have your hopes raised to skyscraper heights only to be demolished and laid to ruin. He knew the heartache and struggle of crawling out from beneath the rubble and having to heal yourself, even though a part of you wants to just lay there in the debris and suffocate… "Oh."

"Uh huh." the younger him nodded; "D'you really want everything you went through last night to be in vain?"

"No."

"D'you want Howard to be alone; thinking he's got nothing left to fight for?"

"No!"

"D'you want a flying saucer?"

"No! I mean, yeah, ok." Vince relented, digging one out from the small paper bag his double was holding out to him. He needed the sugar rush right now. He bit into its papery texture, squinting as he took in the sour sweetness; "Where am I gonna find Howard though?"

Another twinkle rang through the air; "I'd say 'follow your heart', but I'd hate for you to choke on your saucer. Just find him. And when you do; tell him I…just tell him 'goodbye' from me."

When Vince had swallowed his sweet and opened his eyes; his chubby reflection was gone. And the clouded, vague memories in Vince's head swiftly moved into focus with the rush of an oncoming train. He clutched the wall beside him as his legs juddered like strings of jelly; "…oh, Howard."

* * *

Vince wasn't sure how he managed to find his older friend in under an hour. It was if he'd used honing senses that he wasn't even aware he possessed. Jahooli had once tried giving him lessons on tracking and hunting in the forest, but Vince had been so distracted playing with the wolf cubs that Jahooli gave up trying and took the young orphan to Pizza Hut instead. Maybe a part of those teachings had stayed buried in Vince's subconscious, as he followed the scent of musty tweed and shame, to find his friend.

When he'd bitten into the flying saucer, the world that had been held up by brittle pillars until that moment, had finally come crashing down upon him. And, boy, did it 'cause one hell of a headache. He remembered. He could remember it all. How close he'd came to dying…how he actually had died. He remembered Howard cradling him in his arms as his body had dissolved. He remembered the love shining in those tearful, brown eyes gazing down upon him. Howard did love him. Just as much as Vince had knowingly loved him, supposedly unrequited, since the day they had met. It wasn't a trick or a mind-game. It had all been real. The dream had come true.

And, in true Noir fashion, he'd cut it off with another ironic laugh. Leaving 'the moment' in shatters. Not to mention his and Howard's already fragile relationship. _Forget 'borderline', Vince. You really are a simpleton. _Then there was Howard…

There was Howard.

He'd found him at last, standing across from him, separated by a small sea resembling a bustling crowd of people, not noticing or caring for the dark cloud hovering so very near to them. He spotted him, standing with his hands in his pockets and his head slightly bowed, his face unreadable from Vince's angle, his feet motionless…standing before some live train tracks.

Vince bolted through the crowd and straight for the suicidal maverick; "Howard…"

The maverick turned, regarding Vince's arrival for a brief moment before turning his head back. Vince's stomach gave a nauseating twinge. He had no idea simply how fragile Howard was. He knew he wasn't the tough-as-steel man of action he made out to be, true, but he'd safely assumed Chinese burns were the limit of Howard's self-deprecation. The thought that his pushing bitchiness had driven him to _this _seared his gut with guilt.

His stained silver boots stepped hesitantly closer the edge where Howard was perched so near. He didn't want to rush to close unless he merely encouraged Howard to jump straight onto the tracks. He didn't have a clue when the next train would be along.

"D'you remember when were kids; we used to go playing on the old rail tracks?" Howard asked in an eerily calm and un-Howardy tone; "When we'd always play Heroes and Damsels on the line."

"Yeah." Vince replied, slightly breathless; "'Cause I looked like the girl, I always had to be the damsel. And you being my hero."

"Even though every time, I'd get my shoe caught on the tracks and would start panicking and you'd have to get it out for me." Howard stifled a bitter laugh; "Even then, the world wanted rid of me."

"Howard, they were disused tracks. No trains were ever gonna come. But these ones are real…" For once, he began to find it difficult to keep his infallible resolve; "Can we get away from them, please? The next train is gonna be coming soon."

"In just a couple o' minutes, maybe more. I've been waiting here for a while."

"Look, Howard, I don't completely understand what happened last night." explained Vince, shakily, scared by how readily Howard seemed to end his life; "But that guy, the Arbiter, the one who was hunting you or something."

"He wasn't hunting me," Howard cut in; "He was teaching me."

Vince frowned; "_Teaching _you?"

"About the twat I am."

"The twat you _were. _You said things had changed."

Howard scoffed; "Things will never change. I thought they would but they're just exactly the same, they always will be, unless one of us does something about it. Well that's what I'm doing now."

"What; some power-crazed alien wearing Voldemort-chic turns up to tell you you're worthless and you say 'alright mate'? That's just running away!"

"And isn't that what I'm best at? Running away? Getting into trouble and dragging everyone down with me and then just trying to save my own neck?!"

Vince could've easily agreed to that and made a light mocking joke out of it. But even he could tell that it wasn't time for jokes anymore. Howard's self-esteem had hit rock bottom and he couldn't help but feel partly responsible. It was his job, his purpose as Best Friend, to save Howard. Only, this time, he didn't have a single clue exactly how to do it.

"…Howard, please, just come back with me." begged Vince again, expecting a train to come shuttling over the horizon at any second.

"He made me want to hurt you. He waited until everything was perfect and then he tore us apart. He wanted me to be like him." Howard muttered disgustingly whilst looking at Vince. The mod didn't need telling on who 'he' was.

"But you're **not **like him." Vince tried to reassure; "I know what he did, I had the same…But I just thought it was a dream, it's so fuzzy to me, I didn't think it could possibly…I'm sorry."

Howard shook his head; "Don't be sorry. That's all it may've well been. Just a dream."

"But…we both remember. What else matters?"

"Because it wasn't just a _dream _to me! Because every little thing was real!" Howard practically yelled, causing some of the crowd to stop and stare. It was only Vince's shocked visage that made Howard lower his voice again; "I fell in love with you. I _made love_ to you and I know it wasn't real like it was for me, and I just can't handle having been through all that and none of it being anything but a 'dream' to you. I can't be around you knowing that. Look, I'm pathetic; you know this better than anyone. It's all I'll ever be. And you're better off away from me."

"Ok, so you're pissed off. Anyone would be. _I_ would be." Vince replied, fearful yet firm; "That doesn't make you a bad person and it doesn't make you pathetic. Maybe this Arbiter guy did pick you to teach you a lesson - but you're the one who defeated him in the end. You stood up to him and made that epic speech; was that just some heroic one-off lapse you're gonna turn your back on now?"

Howard didn't reply. He merely looked back to face the tracks. But Vince wasn't giving up.

"Howard, you're so much more than what you give yourself credit for. I've seen what you can be, in spite of every bit of crap you've been put through, and it's amazing. But if you end this now then you'll have just lived your whole life as a coward!"

A bleeping noise sounded overhead and an automatic feminine voice filled the air;

"The next train to arrive at platform two does not stop here. So if you're trying to stop a potential boyfriend from doing something stupid; now would be a good time."

Time was about to run out. And Howard still wasn't moving. Tears of frustration brewed in Vince's eyes as he bit down on his cherry glossed lip;

"For fuck's sake, Howard, the train is gonna come soon!" he berated, fiercely.

"Just go, Vince."

"I ain't budgin!"

"D'you think this is easy for me?" Howard fully turned on him this time; "You really think that after everything that happened that I wanna just take the easy way out? Vince, trust me when I say this is for the best. Now _go home!"_

"Don't talk to me like I'm a kid! I ain't letting you do this!" He grabbed at the front of Howard's coat and tried to tug him roughly away from the platform. Howard struggled, restraining Vince's tiny wrists in his talons as if trying to restrain a small child having a tantrum.

More passers-by began to stop and stare at the scene. Fingers prodded their companions for attention and pointed to the street-theatre like dance being performed by the two men.

"Vince, stop it, you're making a scene!" Howard berated, noticing the unwanted attention.

"I don't care, they can watch all they want. You are not gonna do this to me!" Vince continued, savagely.

He scratched and clawed at the bigger man as he attempted to drag him away from the edge. It didn't take long for Howard's short temper to burn its fuse as the whispers and hisses from the strangers semi-circling them reached his ears. He fumed, releasing the smaller man's wrists and shoving him back hard in the chest.

"I SAID LEAVE!" He yelled, watching as Vince stumbled back in his heels.

When he managed to stop himself from falling onto his backside, Vince straightened up, eyes wide and hair wild with fury. He sprung forward, pulling his arm back to slap Howard hard around the face. Without a second to waste, Howard reacted back the way he always did. The way he couldn't stop himself from doing. His hand flew out from his control and back-handed Vince across the jaw.

Vince was unable to stop himself this time from falling back onto the ground as the appalled gasps whirled in a verbal hurricane around him. Howard gritted his teeth as he looked down at him again. Ok, so Vince had thrown the first punch this time, but it didn't change anything. What was wrong with him? Why did he keep doing this?! After everything that had happened, everything he'd learned, he still couldn't stop himself… Tears poisoned with self-loathing sprung to his eyes as he knelt down and picked the smaller man up and into his arms.

He faced his awaiting crowd with the disoriented Vince held against him, his back against his chest, so that his bruised face was on show for all the gossiping vipers to see. Vince struggled against his hold. If someone took a photo of him now, no doubt it would end up in Cheekbone within the hour, a thought that made him want to vomit.

"Go on! Let everyone see what I already did to you!" Howard seethed, pinning Vince against him.

"Howard, no…" Vince whined. Forget Cheekbone, he was surprised no one had called for the police or the platform guards yet. Then he spotted a couple of officers in the crowd - enjoying the show. _Wankers._

"Huh! Everyone take a good look!" Howard spoke out to the stunned public; "Is that something a deserving man does, is it? Is that the mark from someone who's worthy of Vince Noir?"

No one replied. A lot of people edged further back, staring at Howard open-mouthed with revulsion, some mothers scooping their children up and leading them away from the crazy man and into safety. Everyone else seemed content in their idiotic stupor to believe they were watching a performance.

Howard turned Vince around to face him. The now limp mod looked up at him with watery, broken eyes.

"…Howard, please." He whispered on a fragile breath.

"D'you see that, Vince? They all see it, why can't you? Everyone. They **don't** want me here."

He let go of Vince, taking one fleeting glance at his life-long best friend, before turning away. Turning to face his fate.

"…What about me?"

Howard froze, his heart melting at the innocent, child-like squeak of a question.

"**I** want…I _need _you. I love you." Vince cried softly; "More than anything in the world. And don't think after all these years that I haven't wished that I didn't at times. I made you hate me and I still felt the same." He walked up and grabbed Howard's shoulder, tugging him around to face his crumbling grimace; "Why?! Why do you have to make it so bloody hard? I wanted to hate you so much but…You can't justify yourself to me, Howard. Because I know you. And I shouldn't wanna be with you…But I do. I always will." His angry frown fell into a pitiful wobbling of chapped lips.

Howard sighed, wanting nothing more than to pull Vince into his arms and promise that everything was gonna be alright. But he knew it just wasn't that easy; "Please, little man. I have to do this. I need to be brave for once."

"Brave isn't stupid, Howard." Vince lectured back; "I know, I've got the two of them mixed up enough times. This isn't brave. Brave was what I saw when you stood up to the Arbiter. When you faught for your life and stood up for yourself. That was bravery. And it wasn't so hard, was it? And when it does get difficult, at least we'll be together."

Howard's responding silence as his emotions waged a silent yet almighty battle inside him seemed to speak for itself as far as Vince was concerned.

"Well fine then." Vince spat, reaching the end of his tether; "If you're too much of a wuss to even want to be with me, then do it! If I don't mean as much to you for you to wanna stay with me then I can't think what else is. But I ain't gonna try and stop you! And I'm not gonna save your arse again!"

Howard's conflicting expression stilled. He looked at Vince as if only having just realized he was standing there; "What d'you mean, 'save my arse'?"

"Save you from being splattered into blood purée and delivered to Birmingham or wherever!"

Howard shook his head; "Vince, what are you talking about?"

"You! Throwing yourself in front of the train. Killing yourself." Vince exclaimed simply.

"Killing myself?!" Howard half-laughed; "What on earth makes you think I'm gonna do that?"

Vince frowned; "Uh, 'cause you're all depressed and Howard-y. And you're standing very close to some rail road tracks."

"Yes, Vince. Because it's a train station. Do you know what else people do here apart from try and kill themselves?"

Vince thought hard on that; "…Film Emo music videos?"

Howard merely looked at Vince, raising an eyebrow at his failed conclusion. The crowd watching around exchanged amused mutterings whilst the electro boy's dim mind worked out exactly what had just been said. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks as the truth dawned upon him. He looked straight at Howard, his stomach hallow and a penny hovering in the zero gravity of his mind.

He glanced around properly at his surroundings. He'd seen all of it as he'd rushed it but had been in too much of a panic to take in exactly where he was, or do anything other than follow his sugar enhanced senses to find where Howard was. He vaguely remembered seeing some guy asleep in a glass-shielded kiosk as he'd passed through the large entrance. And then there where those metal barrier things he'd climbed over with ease as the guard was chatted up by a familiar large transvestite prostitute. Not to mention the televisions everywhere with lists of places and times on them instead of any kind of viewing entertainment…_Seriously_, Vince groaned, _Any clue that I'd been in a train station at all would've spared us all this drama!_

The train that had been promised not to stop at the station rocketed passed them. The wind whistled teasingly through Vince's hair.

He examined the taller man before him again, his boiling blood cooling to a bemused stillness; "You mean…you're just getting on a train? Where's your luggage?"

"Some of us don't need to pack eight racks of clothing to carry with us whenever we go anywhere."

Vince blinked; "So…you're not gonna kill yourself?"

"Of course not!" Howard struggled against a grin; "Why would I wanna after everything that happened last night? Whether it was a dream or not, it taught me something I'll never forget."

"What's that?"

"That life is precious. I could continue being miserable and taking out my frustrations on the people around me but then I would be like him. The Arbiter. And I'm not gonna let that happen. It doesn't matter if the Universe doesn't want me, it's stuck with me. It's its problem, not mine."

Vince shook his head, more confused than ever; "So why are you running away to…Where are you going?"

"Wakefield. Visit the decent members of my family. And I ain't running away. I'm starting a fresh. I don't care if I'm unwanted here…it's only 'cause I know you're better off without me. You're the only one I care about hurting again. But I have to leave London. 'Get away from everything I've been blaming so I can sort myself out-"

"But you're not gonna kill yourself?" Vince cut in.

"No. I thought we'd established-"

"Oh, thank Jagger!" Vince's concoction of emotions exploded at long last. He launched himself at Howard, wrapping his arms tight around his neck, nearly knocking the stunned maverick off the platform anyway.

"Whoa now! Easy there, little man." Howard's hands hovered unsure and lamely above Vince's back.

"You twatface! You utter twatty McTwatface, you got me so scared!" Vince seethed, tearfully, pulling back to growl the words in Howard's face before crushing his lips against his own in a brief yet fierce snog. He then pulled back, seething; "…Why did you make me 'cause that scene? They must think I'm some crazy bitch from a Richard Curtis film. I'm not, by the way!" He added to the crowd.

Every member of the doubtful audience, in unison, raised an eyebrow.

"I just thought you were mad at me leaving." Howard explained, face flushing from the kiss as well as everything else; "And you've always been a drama queen."

"Look who's talking!" Vince gaped back, his arms remaining tangled around Howard's neck.

Howard's eyes narrowed; "So you're not mad?"

"Yeah, 'course I'm mad, but compared to you killing yourself…" Vince's giddy, overactive resolve broke once again as tears showered from his eyes. He went to wipe them away only to have Howard's gentle thumb beat him to it.

"Sorry..." Howard half-laughed, half-soothed, placing his hands upon Vince's back and pulling him closer to him. Seeing the younger man show such fear at the thought of Howard dying began to regain the self-worth and hope he'd had in those final moments in the cellar after he'd destroyed the Arbiter. "I'm sorry for scaring you, sweetheart."

"You gonna keep up with calling me that?" Vince sniffed, smiling up at him.

Howard winced; "Again - sorry."

"Don't be. I like it." Vince said softly. He raised a hand to stroke over Howard's cheek; "…I like _you_. I really, really like you."

"You...You're not just saying that?" Howard clasped Vince's slender arms before him. How could reality be this beautiful?

"It was real, Howard. All of it. I wasn't sure of it at first but…then I ran into your little lovesick mini-me."

"There's a…dwarf who looks like me and has a crush on me?"

Vince tutted, sniffing back the last of his quick downpour of tears; "How you've managed to survive this long is a mystery to me."

"Not to me it ain't. You're always there to save me." Howard smiled, truly grateful that he'd lived as long to be in this moment; " But you saw my Defendant? Alive?"

"I think so. He wanted me to tell you he said 'goodbye'."

"Oh…" Howard couldn't help but feel a bit cheated; "Anything else?"

"Yeah. That last night shouldn't have been for nothing. He said it was a lesson for both of us. And that it shouldn't be wasted. And that you should take me out on a date tonight."

Howard's eyes twinkled, suspiciously; "He said that last part?"

"You weren't there, you can't know either way." Vince smirked cheekily.

Howard sighed, knowing that he was well and truly done for; "Vince…I need to get on that train. It's not to do with you. I mean, it is, I thought I needed to leave you for your own good. But it's this place. London. It's just not me. And I know it's you. You're a cockney bitch.

"No I'm not, I'm a French prince!" Vince protested; "You said so."

"I said you were a duke."

"You've demoted me?"

"You know what 'demoting' means?" Howard chided playfully.

"D'you know what 'patronising tit' means?"

"Oh for God's sake, are you two gonna kiss or we gonna have to resume our normal business?" A girl with cropped jet-black hair from the watching crowd heckled. They all murmured in agreement with her.

Howard and Vince merely laughed, blanking them all out once more to gaze at each other.

"I really am gonna leave, Vince. Maybe not forever. I was gonna come back for you someday... But this is something I have to do." Howard said, hating that he had to say it but knowing he had to stick by his decision.

"I get ya. Which is why I'm coming with you."

Howard's mouth gaped, startled; "Vince, you can't. What about your stuff?"

"I don't need it. All I need is you." Vince grinned, clinging to Howard like a limpet; "…And my hair straighteners. But I'll get Naboo to post them to me."

"But you're so…_London_. This city revolves around you. It's your home."

Vince shook his head; "No it ain't. You're my home."

"Aww!" the audience chimed together at the sickly sweet line.

"Now are you gonna kiss?" the girl with the cropped hair asked.

Vince sneered at her before turning back to Howard with his mega-watt smile; "Let's shut them up, ey."

"Happy to."

Howard brought his hands up to cup Vince's face and brought his lips up to meet his own. They met in the softest, most tender kiss that Vince had ever experienced. As he pulled himself closer, he slipped his tongue past Howard's teeth and it crossed to embrace Howard's, whilst his hands slipped around the back of Howard's head to tangle in his curls, his blood rushing as Howard's hands moved down to his back and held him. So close. So possessive.

Wolf whistles and gushing bubbled in the sea around their invisible private island. They'd've been happy to stay there forever. Before they began to realize just how perverted it was to have the whole whole world watching them in their intimate moment. They slowly pulled back, the taste of each other lingering on their tongues, eyes pouring irrevocable devotion into the other's irises. Vince stuck his tongue in his cheek and turned to their heckler.

"Satisfied now? Don't we get an applause or do we have to bum each other right now?" He asked sarcastically.

"Well actually-" the girl began but was cut off by her taller friend elbowing her in the stomach.

Instead she rolled her eyes and began the single clap that soon spread, in true rom-com fashon, throughout the small sea of people, until they were a ravenous applause surrounded Howard and Vince. They grinned stupidly at each other, caught between pride and plain foolishness at their cheesy conclusion. _Oh well,_ Howard thought, _Blame the writer._

A Virgin train pulled up onto the platform in front of them. Vince felt the relief cool pleasantly inside him at the fact that it hadn't crashed into any stupid Northerner with a death wish.

"This is our train." Howard stated. He met Vince's eyes sternly; "You sure you wanna come with me? What about…Rachelle? And your kid?"

Vince's euphoria wavered slightly. He gulped, holding his worries at bay; "You said you were gonna be with me all the way."

"I…I will…If you want me to." Howard reaffirmed his promise. The memories from his brief visit to the future would scar him forever.

"Then I've got nothing to fear, 'ave I? And there's nine months left before we have to fret about all that. Until then, I just wanna spend every waking moment with you…I love you, Howard."

"I love you too." said Howard, tucking a lock of Vince's mane behind his ear.

The smaller man's sapphire eyes sparkled once more; "…So yeah. I'm sure."

Howard beamed. He'd taken the hint by now that there really was no getting rid of the annoying, beautiful titbox. Not that he'd ever really wanted to. He held his hand out, palm facing up, to Vince. The smaller man landed his in Howard's and was clutched tightly as they practically infused together. As the crowd around them finally began to continue going about to wherever they originally planned to go, Howard and Vince turned and made their way up onto the train.

Just as Howard pulled Vince up off the platform and onto the carriage, an elderly train master awaited them to take their tickets. Howard handed in his, before they both looked awaiting to a ticket-less Vince. The electro boy gave the train master his best pair of puppy dog eyes and nodded down to his and Howard's hand's entwined together.

The train master's face softened in a second; "Aww, go on through, you lucky kids."

Vince grinned and thanked the old man kindly. Howard rolled his eyes, unable to suppress a chuckle at his partner's never-ending luck, before leading Vince off to find a couple of seats.

The train master watched them go with a sunny smile on his worn face. In all his forty years on the job, he'd never seen any two strangers who, in spite of their polarities, looked so suited to each other before. It had made his aging, bitter heart melt with unyielding generosity and joy.

An elderly woman climbed onto the train and tried to pass the dazed train master. He immediately snapped back to reality and held his arm in front of her; "Ticket, bitch!"

Meanwhile, at the other end of the carriage, Howard sat looking out of the window to his side. The sun was still climbing up high into the sky as the morning neared to noon. London was now in the thrall of yet another of its usual, tedious, routines. And it filled him with an invigorating buzz that he was ready to escape that. Naboo would be checking their many clocks, wondering where on Earth they'd disappeared to and who was gonna mind the shop. Leroy and the rest of Camden's Elite would be putting up 'Missing' posters for their vanishing Prince. None of which was Howard's concern anymore. He'd been given a second chance. A chance to take away the lessons given to him and make his life something worth waking up to each day.

A skinny figure shuffled against him, held under his left arm, feathered hair brushing against his cheek. Howard looked down to meet Vince's eyes looking up at him from where his head lay against his chest. This 'touching' thing was still a strange sensation but it wasn't one that Howard would give up for the world. Instead he held Vince closer, feeling him fit perfectly against him as if he'd been moulded to hold him and him alone. The little man really didn't seem to have any problem with leaving his friends, his town and everything he knew. Not as long as Howard was holding him. His heart swelled. That alone was enough to make Howard believe just how wrong the Arbiter had been about him.

Eventually their train pulled out and soon Howard was watching the city skyline pass away from him. He knew it wouldn't be the last time he'd see it. It was just the last time he'd be seeing it with his old, bitter eyes. London would have to prepare itself for a new and improved Howard Moon when he returned. Before Howard could continue his proud inner-monologue, he was distracted by the unrelenting repeating of his name coming from the love of his life.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He replied after the thirtieth 'Howard' from Vince's lips.

The electro boy's eyes shone at having gained his rightful attention; "Thanks for saving me."

Howard couldn't help visibly blushing; "Well…ditto. Times god-knows how much."

He inhaled the sweet scent of Vince's hair as the younger man's fingers toyed with the collar of his Hawaiin shirt.

"…Howard?"

"Mmm, little man?"

"Wanna find out what the train equivalent of the Mile High club is?"

* * *

**Credits**

_**Disclaimer: **_

_**All respective characters, themes and creations of the Mighty Boosh belong its brilliant, wacky, charming and oh-so-gorgeous creators; Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding. Credit also to the BBC, Baby Cow Productions, Steve Coogan, Paul King and anyone else for giving us such an amazing show to inspire so many wonderful fics from fans such as myself. Credit also to Grant Naylor Productions and Red Dwarf for a lot of the plot was inspired by said perfect sci-fi comedy. This was written purely for good, (almost) innocent fun and non-profit perposes. No copyright infringement intended. Please don't sue! All I own is the falty plot, the lame jokes and any original characters. **_

_**Thanks to:**_

_**All my reviewers on here; BrieStarWarsQueen, swisstony, InconspiciousBunny, AnitaLife, Demactica, Watcha, bookends999, xelectrogirlx, HMC, beck1990, poesumo, Flicksy, kbchick, noirxheart, VirendraLione, Torahamutaro-chan, Mama Lazarou, Thrif, VampiresBaby, Jael Noir, Rai Vinn and anyone else who wants to review this fic after I've posted this.**_

_**Also thanks to my wonderful, loving, if a little bit insane LiveJournal family and everyone who reviewed this fic on my LJ and BSH (from what I've posted thus far). You know who you are and your enthusiasm for this story inspired me to keep going so quickly. This has been my first ever epic that I've managed to complete and I wouldn't have bothered with if it wasn't for you girls. It's been a year now since I joined LJ and in that year I've met the best friends a girl could ask for and had some of the funnest moments of my life in places I never would've gone if it wasn't for you lot. I love you all.**_

_**So. That's it folks! Until next time. Not sure when that will be, whenever I get an idea to write anything again, god knows when that will be. But until then;**_

_**Stoke me a clipper. I'll be back for Christmas.....Whatever :P  
**_

_**xxxxxxxxxxxxx  
**_


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